Recovery & Loss Prevention
by Cheryl W
Summary: Having heatedly resigned from NCIS, Tony is now an FBI agent with Fugitive Recovery but as fate would have it, his latest fugitive takes him back to the last place he wants to be: DC and on a crash course with his ex-coworkers. (No slash)
1. Chapter 1

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Having heatedly resigned from NCIS, Tony's now an FBI agent with Fugitive Recovery but as fate would have it, his latest fugitive takes him back to the last place he wants to be: DC and on a crash course with his ex-coworkers. (No slash)

Author's Note: Ok, this is a sort of a cross with the show Numb3rs without enough to truly throw it in the crossover category but Don Epps is here and his father will probably make a showing. Not sure why I've got hooked on NCIS and Tony now that the show's gone in different directions but alas, the muse wants what the muse wants. Set around six season NCIS though not as much time has passed from the season 5 premiere (hiatus eps) and this story would be pre-season Numb3rs.

I'm not sure how this story should flow and when to do the back story so please bear with me as we go forth!

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Chapter 1: Reunions Suck

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Tony DiNozzo sat Indian style on the motel bed, his laptop propped up on his knees as his fingers struck across the keys, speaking to Don Epps, his Fugitive Recovery partner of three months, "Riker's not a guy to sit around playing checkers waiting for the heat to cool down after his escape. He's had a plan in motion since he hit the guard on the bus and slipped out of his cuffs."

Still pacing the room's length, Don ran a hand down his tired face, concurred with Tony's assessment. "Yeah and he's been checking people off that to do list: his ex-partner who sold him out for a shorter jail term, his lawyer who sucked at getting him off the murder rap, his ex-girlfriend who gave him a Dear John letter one month in his stay at prison."

Not stopping his typing, Tony gave into his frustration, "Yeah and we've been one step behind him the whole way, just in time to see the bodies carted into the ME's van." Unbidden, Ducky's face flashed in his head, and he could almost hear the good ME's affectionate tone of voice saying his name, like he had a thousand times on tough cases just before he launched into a speech of encouragement. Clenching his teeth together, Tony shut out that memory, didn't want it to herald in other memories he had no intentions of playing in his head. NCIS was his past, he needed to stay in the now. To do what he had done after Paelia and Philadelphia and Baltimore: create a new Anthony DiNozzo and shed off the old one.

But when his search turned up another murder scene he knew was courtesy of their fleeing prison escapee, he wanted to viciously slam the laptop onto the floor. Apparently fate was not done biting him in the butt because the location of the newest murder….was in DC. And to top off his crappy day…the murdered man was a sergeant in the navy…guaranteeing that NCIS would be the ones on the scene. ' _Yeah and my luck is that Gibbs' team will be the ones up on rotation_.' And if they weren't…gossip would spread through the DC NCIS office as soon as someone spotted him on the scene.

Noting the pinched features of his partner, Don stopped pacing and studied Tony a moment. "Something wrong?"

Clearing his throat, Tony shut the laptop with precise calm before he met his partner's inquisitive gaze. "I'd say that's a yes. Our buddy Riker's struck again. Apparently he had a beef to pick with his school chum, Mark Nash, because he's dead."

"Boy, when this guy goes on a revenge streak, he doesn't believe in the ten year law of statute does he?" Don grimly joked but when Tony didn't join in on the false merriment, he knew something more was going on with his partner. "So tell me the part you don't want to tell me," he quietly prompted, saw the startled look on Tony's face at his perceptiveness. "Hey, I've gotten to you know the last couple of months and I can practically see that wall coming down over your face."

Surprised and pleasantly pleased that Don had made an effort to get to know him, let alone care if something was bothering him,(so unlike his old partners) that Tony figured the man deserved a heads up for the upcoming crap storm they were going to be walking into. Nash was killed in DC.." then he dropped the other shoe, knowing Don would know the significance, "and he was a naval officer."

"Oh crap," Don breathed out, knew Tony was closed mouthed about his previous career in NCIS and that in itself spoke volumes to him about how bad that situation must have been for DiNozzo.

"Ah, yeah, crap," Tony admitted with a tired sigh as he dumped the laptop on the bed, surged off the mattress and stalked out the door, leaving the door slam in his wake.

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Tony walked for 45 minutes before he begrudgingly pulled out his phone and made a call. It was answered within two rings.

"Thought you were going to play hard to get for another two months," FBI Agent Fornell drawled. "This shut out seems a little cold considering I got you your current job and thereby drew the unquenchable wrath of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs down upon my head."

"My current runner killed a naval officer…in DC," Tony announced without preamble.

Understanding the implications as well as Tony did, Fornell swore viciously.

"My thoughts exactly," Tony tiredly replied.

Fornell immediately asked, his tone concerned, "What can I do?"

Tony gave a bitter bark of laughter, "Besides stop fate from being such a backstabber…not much."

Quietly, Fornell suggested, "You could pass this case onto someone else…or let Don go solo."

"Yeah, 'cause that doesn't make me a chicken," Tony bit out with self hate.

Resigned that DiNozzo wasn't going to let him avoid the upcoming reunion with his old life, Fornell asked, "So what will you let me do for you?"

"Be executor of my will?" Tony joked and Fornell snorted in appreciation for the younger man's twisted humor. Then Tony drew in a breath, "I thought I'd pack up my DC apartment while I'm in town and you said the agency could help me relocate."

"Ready to cut all ties?"

"Already done that…just needed…time."

"Where do you want them to relocate you?"

"Los Angeles."

Fornell whistled. "That far, huh? You know I live on the east coast, your dad lives on the east coast…most of the people you know live…"

"I know where everyone lives, Fornell," Tony cut in, didn't need a geography lesson or a psych eval disguised as a geography lesson.

"Guess that's the point, huh? Clean break?"

"Yeah, clean break," but in Tony's heart of hearts, it didn't feel like he was contemplating a clean break ….more like a limb amputation. "So what hoops do I need to go through for the relocation?"

"I'll have someone call you and they can take it from there," Fornell replied but there was a pause. "I know why you left…heck, I supported you…still do. But….you can change your mind, no one would judge you."

"I would judge me. No, I've made the right decision. Besides, I don't do do-overs. I don't do u-turns. I go forward…it's the only way to get over things," Tony grimly announced his philosophy that had kept him sane through the crap storms of his life.

"Ok…but at least call me when you're in town so we can grab a good dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant."

"I think I can fit you into my busy schedule," Tony wisecracked.

"You better. And DiNozzo…good luck," Fornel earnestly bid before he ended the call. But he stood in his office a good while longer, his cell phone in hand. He felt helpless, knowing the emotional upheaval the kid was about to walk into. And the crazy part of it all was, affection, respect and love were the makers of this upheaval. If DiNozzo could stop caring about his old team and if his old team could stop caring about Dinozzo, he wouldn't be worried that the upcoming reunion would irrevocable destroy them all inside out. Sure the Bible said love conquers all but had God actually meant that applied to Gibb's team of eclectic personalities?!. Because as far as Fornell could tell, for them, love, not hate, was the destroyer of their worlds.

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Pulling the sedan to the curb a block from the murder sight, Tony groused under his breath, "We made _too_ good of time getting here."

But Don heard him and before he could ask for an explanation, he saw what Tony had: the ME van parked ahead. "Maybe it's not your old team," Don tried to be optimistic but by the grim set to Tony's jaw, his offer of hope was misplaced.

"Nope, it's them," Tony declared as he forced himself out of the car, slammed the door with more force than the car manufacturers would approve of and started walking down the sidewalk. In a few strides, Don gained his side and it made Tony feel better, knowing he wasn't going into the lion's den alone. "Sorry in advance for how awkward this is about to get," Tony offered to Don before he dug his FBI badge out of his winter coat pocketed and flashed it to the police officer manning the police tape and got waved into the cordoned off area.

Ducking under the tape, Tony felt his breath catch in his chest as he saw the familiar people down the alleyway doing their jobs: McGee snapping pictures, Ziva going through trash on the ground for clues or a weapon, Ducky crouched by the body with Palmer hoovering over his shoulder, nodding as Ducky probably imparted some teaching lesson on him. And there, off talking with the police officer who was probably first on scene, was Gibbs. Tony thanked God for small favors that Gibbs' back was to him and his former teammates were so engrossed in their duties that weren't aware of his approach.

As it was, Tony was ten feet away before he made his opening remark. "Well, it's like old home week out here," making sure his tone was that jovial frat boy one that he had perfected to hide his inner emotions whenever he was presented with awkward painful events. It was almost comical the way they all turned his way at the same time, wore the same stunned/startled expression.

McGee and Ducky were tied for speaking first: "Tony?" that was Tim, using that tone of voice that he used to say his name when he thought Tony should run before Gibbs caught him doing something he shouldn't. Ducky's greeting was all warmth: "Good Gracious, Anthony! What a treat seeing you!"

"Trick or treat, a few months too late for Halloween, or maybe I'm early for next year's All Hallows Eve?" Tony joked back, pulling out his mega watt smile as his eyes glossed over the gathered group he once called coworkers…even friends and family but that had only ever been in the quiet of his own head. He didn't let himself look pointedly toward Gibbs but out of his corner of his eye, he saw that Gibbs had yet to turn around, was _maybe_ oblivious to his presence. Or choosing to ignore him.

' _Focus on the job at hand,_ ' Tony internally chastised himself before he nodded toward his up-till-now silent partner. "Everyone this is my partner Don Epps. Don this is Timothy McGee, Ziva David, Dr Donald Mallard and James Palmer," he introduced, was pleased that Tim and Ziva shook Don's hand and was just as pleased that Ducky and Jimmie passed on that honor since they had blood and bodily fluids already staining their white gloves.

"Why are you here, Tony?" Ziva asked, a bit of a bite to her tone.

Tony smirked. "Good old Ziva, always willing to forego the pleasantries and get down to the blood and guts." Tony didn't catch Ziva's facial reaction to that zinger because his traitorous gaze had darted back to Gibbs, watched as the man finally turned around, took two steps and then came to a full on stop as their eyes met across the ten yard distance. He had rarely seen Gibbs surprised…but this was one of those times. But Tony couldn't interpret the expressions that coursed over the older agent's features, found he didn't want to. None of it mattered now.

Pointedly looking away from the approaching lead agent, Tony addressed Ziva and her question, "As for how you're being blessed with my presence…your victim was killed by the fugitive Don and I have been after for the past month, Marcus Riker. The naval officer and Riker were childhood chums…apparently with a grudge that was unresolved up until now."

"Would have remained unresolved if you did your job and caught your fugitive a month ago…." Gibb's acidic comment reached the group before he stepped into the loose circle and boldly came toe to toe with Tony. "Isn't that right FBI Agent DiNozzo?"

Tony gave his former boss's insult his best fake laugh, "Oh good one Special Agent Gibbs." His eyes unflinchingly lanced into Gibb's as he introduced his partner. "FBI Agent Dom Epps, meet the always-ready-with- a-kind-word Special Agent Gibbs."

Don didn't offer his hand to Gibbs and Gibbs never even acknowledged the other FBI agent's presence…or his own team's for that matter. He only had eyes for DiNozzo. And it felt like some western standoff in the middle of a dusty street, both waiting for the other to make the first move toward his weapon to initiate the gun fight.

Always trying to be the peacemaker, Ducky pulled off his soiled gloves and barged into the space between Tony and Gibbs and enveloped Tony into a hearty hug. "I've missed you, dear boy." Before Tony could reply in kind, Jimmie was there, giving him a tight hug too and beginning to spurt off words. "It's not been the same without you there, Tony! No one talks basketball with me…and we haven't done a group lunch or dinner in…well since you left. And Abby…she's going to be so happy to see you. You know you really should have given us your new cell number…Abby was pretty upset when she called your old number and….."

"Pretty hard for him to get his voice messages when he left his cell phone abandoned in his apartment when he fled town," Gibbs cut in, judgment soaking in every word, his gut clenching at the memory of B&Eing into Tony's apartment and finding Tony's cell phone on the table along with the discarded pictures of the NCIS team. Then a quick check of the apartment confirmed his worst fears: DiNozzo's truly valued possessions were already gone. Tony was already gone.

Tony didn't miss the insult when Gibbs said he "fled" town, like some coward…or fugitive. But he wouldn't let the man bait him into a confirmation. Instead he let his expression turn to all business, "Well as much as this reunion's been fun, Don and I are going to need to be read in on your findings. Ducky, have you got a time of death?"

Looking between Jethro and Tony, Ducky did a silent sigh as no healing seemed to be in sight between the two men. "I'd say four hours ago."

Don and Tony immediately turned to each other, "Riker could still be in town," Don surmised, hope in his tone that this time the fugitive wouldn't slip through their fingers.

"Yeah, he likes to do a bit of sight seeing before his next kill," Tony concurred, catching onto Don's good vibes and smiling, "which means we have a small window to nail him." Then in synch, the two FBI recovery agents turned around and were heading out of the alley with determination. Neither aware of the stunned and hurt expressions marking each of Tony's previous team's features at Tony's abrupt departure from them without a 'fare thee well' let alone a 'I'll stay in touch'.

Each NCIS team member turned to face Gibbs, saw an expression they had never seen before on the agent's features: a fierce mixture of panic….regret….pain. Then it morphed into a so recognizable expression of determination that all that saw it's appearance fought back a sigh of relief. Gibbs wasn't going to make the same mistake a second time, wasn't going to let Tony just waltz out of their life, was going to get DiNozzo back with them where he belonged.

Taking a few rushed steps forward, Jethro, at the last second, fisted his reaching hand instead of grabbing onto Tony, knew that physical restraint wasn't going to stop the kid from walking away again. That he needed tactics and a trap and….yes, words, he needed to talk to Tony. Really talk to him…say the things he felt…should have said a long time ago, long before the kid got sick of his abuse and walked away from him and everyone else who cared about him.

"We know where your guy was four hours ago and we have a lead on where's he's going to be," Jethro called out to DiNozzo's back, hoping the younger man would take the bait. Felt a flickering of hope when Tony and Don stopped but didn't turn around, held a low conversation between themselves instead that he couldn't hear. _'Come on DiNozzo, just give me an opening here, kid_ ,' he silently appealed.

But it wasn't Tony who turned around, who had been nominated speaker for the partners but Don. "Yeah and what's the lead, Agent Gibbs?" a challenge in his tone like he knew Gibbs was bluffing with a pitifully bad losing hand.

Though he felt like growling out for Tony to turn around, to not walk out on him, _them_ , Jethro offered up his smug grin, "You both agree to do a joint investigation with us and I'll share my intel with you."

That had Tony spinning around and taking a few steps back to his old team but there wasn't conciliation in his eyes but anger. "Don't play me, Gibbs," he lowly bit out before he surprisingly turned to Ziva. "Ziva, where's your bags filled with pertinent evidence, huh? Where are the clues to Riker's next stop? What wonders did you pull from the trash you're still shifting through around the body? Go ahead, show me your evidence bag holding this miracle clue to Riker's next destination and I'll agree to this joint investigation."

Ziva opened her mouth, shifted nervously on his feet, shot a helpless look to Gibbs but couldn't produce an evidence bag to save her life. Eyes shifting from Ziva back to Gibbs, Tony growled, "Next time you want to pull some leverage game on someone, make sure they don't know you as well as I do. And, oh yeah, you should actually have some leverage over them."

Don put a hand on Tony's arm then, bid, "Come on Tony, trail's getting cold."

Nodding in agreement, Tony turned his back on the NCIS team and followed Don's lead out of the alleyway and back to their car, didn't even speak as he handed Don the car keys and got in the passenger side. He didn't look down the alleyway as Don maneuvered the car past the crime scene, didn't want to see how his departure affected his old team…if it affected them at all. His departure now…. or then.

"You ok?" Don quietly asked in concern, eyes shifting from the road to his too quiet partner.

"I'll be better once we catch Riker, shove him back into a nice cell and put DC in our rearview mirror," Tony tersely volleyed back.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Don amicably agreed. "Now first step: where's a watering hole that Riker would hit in this town? It's gotta be grimy…"

"Have hot waitresses.." Tony supplied and then he and Dom said in synch as they smiled at one another, "And serve Blue Moon beer."

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"Blackmail, really Jethro," Ducky scathingly lectured his long time friend as he approached the man who hadn't moved a muscle (well beside to viciously kick over a trash can in a show of rage) since DiNozzo had exited the alley.

"I didn't see you doing anything to stop him?!" Jethro fired back, turning blazing eyes onto his friend.

Matching anger sparked in the unusually even tempered doctor's eyes and his voice rose as he spoke, "Some would say it isn't my place or job to stop him since it wasn't _my_ bullheaded refusal to treat the young man with any respect or kindness that had him leaving town before the ink was even dry on his resignation letter to NCIS!"

Gibbs stiffened at the accusation like it had been a sucker punch. "Respect and kindness?!" Jethro hoarsely repeated the doctor's words. "You of all people know how I feel about Tony, Duck."

Not willing to give his friend clemency, Dr Mallard frostily retorted "Yes and it's too bad that you were too proud to tell Tony how much you value him. You didn't just lose him for yourself…you lost him for all of us and today…by the grace of God we had a shot at…at…" he stammered, wasn't sure how much he could or should have expected from the chance encounter. Reaching out, Ducky gripped Gibb's shoulder. "He was right _here_ , Jethro, and instead of choosing to latch onto him, you used your words to rip him to shreds again." Ducky shook his head in resigned disgust. "I know you've lost people Jethro, but Shannon and Kelly were taken from you, it wasn't your fault. But Tony's leaving, being gone, that is because of you. But it doesn't have to end that way, you still have a chance to make things right."

Gibbs waved his hand down the empty alleyway in frustration. "How?! He's gone, Duck."

"But you know where he's going, Jethro," Ducky supplied with a smile.

Jethro's thunderous expression shifted to a slow smile. "After Riker. If I pick up Riker's trail…."

"You're bound to meet up with Tony and his partner. Hard to turn down help when it's already there," . the doctor said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You sure you're not the wily special agent, Ducky?" Gibbs teased in a show of humor that hadn't been seen for three months…since one senior field agent Anthony DiNozzo had left the NCIS building and not come back.

"Believe me, my insight isn't virtuous in nature but for wholly selfish motives: I miss the boy too Jethro. Very much."

Jethro swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, me too, Duck. Me too," Then he stalked over to the naval officer's dead body and the crime scene. He had to find that link to Riker, had to make good on his boast that he had found a clue to where the fugitive would go next, where DiNozzo would think Riker would go to next. But heck, Jethro didn't care if he missed Riker by a thousand miles…because the fugitive wasn't the target of his search, Tony was.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and I hope you're interested in more of the story.

Have a great day!


	2. Chapter 2: A Sloppy Win

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Thanks very much for the warm welcome so many of you gave my first NCIS fic! I was tickled pink that you wanted more of the tale! So here's chapter 2….

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Chapter 2: A Sloppy Win

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FBI Fugitive Recovery agent Don Epps looked out the windshield of their rental car at the bar, silently watched the trickle of patrons as they entered and left the establishment that boasted Blue Moon beer. He boosted the car's heater up another notch to fight off the November cold seeping into the vehicle, didn't doubt the weatherman that there would be frost overnight. When he shifted in his seat to hopefully regain some feeling in his numb butt, his partner interpreted the gesture as impatience and spoke for the first time in an hour.

"Ok, yeah, having someone on our team that Riker wouldn't recognize would be helpful right now," Tony ruefully admitted. "They could stroll in there, hop on a bar stool, gaze around and either see Riker or wait for him to show. In fact, let's say we were blessed with a "team" of helpers, we could cover more bases …they could split up, stakeout a few bars with Riker's MO, might have this guy tonight."

Don didn't take his eyes off the bar entrance. "I didn't say any of that."

Tiredly, Tony said, "But you were thinking it….and so was I." He hated regretting his decisions, especially when it had felt so justified…so good to walk away from Gibbs with a 'I don't need you' vibe going on. Now it just seemed childish. "So what…should I call them?"

Looking across the seat to his partner, Don asked, "If this were any other city, any other police force investigating the murder, would we invite them to tag along on our manhunt?"

"No?" Tony timidly asked, uncertain of his judgement factor at the moment.

Don laughed at DiNozzo's timorous half agreement, "No, we wouldn't. Man, they got under your skin didn't they?" but there was sympathy there, not judgement.

"It's what they do…he does," Tony mumbled, focusing again on the bar's less than stable structure, what with the tilted awning, Bud light that only the B lit up and the broken concrete in the walkway that was doing its departing drunk patrons a disservice since they didn't need anything to actually trip over when they had two left feet tripping them up just fine.

"Agent Gibbs was a class A jerk…yeah. But the rest of the team…they were genuinely thrilled to see you, Tony," Don pointed out, didn't think his partner was objective enough to recognize that last fact on his own.

Tony snorted. "Thrilled to see me….then absence must make the heart grow fonder because that certainly wasn't how they felt about me when I was actually on their team."

Don shrugged before he leaned forward, snagged his coffee cup off the dash and took an unhealthy swig of the cold bitter brew. "Yeah, well…that's family sometimes. My brother Charlie and I…man we did NOT get along. I think he invented a math equation in celebration when we both left for college and didn't have to be living under the same roof again."

"Wait, he left for college when you did? I thought he was younger than you?" Tony tried to track the chain of events and was coming up short.

"Genius, remember? Gifted, little less brilliant than Einstein by a few IQ points," Don said with a little bit of bitterness before he sighed. "Guess it sounds like jealousy….maybe it is. Either way, we were not good being in the same house…and when I came home, stayed at the house a few months while I started my FBI career, ….all those years apart…it still didn't change us into being compatible housemates. "

"Sorry about that," Tony earnestly commiserated, knew what it was like being an stranger in his own house, to his own father. "But you sound close with your parents."

"Close is a relative word. Do I love them, yeah. Did they care about my future like they did Charlie's? Now that was not even close." Here Don shrugged, slouched back into the seat. "But I told myself to just learn to accept people I love for who they are, not what they aren't."

"How's that going because if it's a success, I could use that philosophy on my own dad."

Don chuckled. "It's a work in process. But Charlie, he's called me a time or two and our talks…they weren't all bad."

"So some long distance relationships are for the best. Maybe that's what my dad thinks too. Course there's long distance relationship and then there's the never-returns-my-phone-calls relationship. I think that most shrinks would say that falls into an entirely _different_ category," Tony drawled, trying to put a light tone on his pain.

' _Yeah, the scummy parent category_ ,' Dom silently condemned Tony's father but said aloud, "You know another perk of this job….we're always on the go, never staying in any one place for long. If anyone's unreachable, it's us…not our parents."

Tony whispered, "Rule #3."

"What?"

Tony cleared his throat. "Gibbs, he had rules and number three was 'never by unreachable.'"

Don smirked. "Guess you told him where to stick that one."

Tony gave a weak smile. "In spades…When I left DC, I never took my cell phone along with me, left it sitting on my apartment table. Never contacted any of the team after I was gone." Tony gave a thousand yard stare out the windshield, numbly admitted, "I'm not sure if I was afraid they would call me…or terrified that they would never call me. Either way, I didn't want to find out."

"Might be for the best. Last time I called my dad, we spent the entire conversation arguing about how I never called, never visited. That he didn't know if I was alive or dead." Don shot a bitter smile to Tony. "It did not help things when I told him that presently I was alive."

Tony chuckled. "Bet not." Then silence fell again in the car until Tony broke it. "So how long it's been since you've called him?"

"Ah…lets see, it's what August?"

"Mid September," Tony corrected.

"Right, so….a year since I called him. He's called me…had great conversations with my voice mail. Oh, and while we're on the subject, my family does NOT get notified if I get hurt, got that? Only if I'm heading on that one way ticket to the great beyond, then…. _maybe_ drop them a line but for anything less…they are not to be contacted. Clear?"

"Crystal. Same applies for me except for that last clause," Tony replied back, earning him Don's intense appraisal. Feeling like an explanation was in order, Tony coldly stated, "He hasn't given a crap about me while I'm living, I don't want him putting on a fatherly show for my send off, probably would just be a publicity stunt anyway."

Don solemnly nodded but couldn't fight the need to quietly ask, "What about anyone else you would want me to notify?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't have much in the way of family ties, see some relatives from time to time but no one who would rush to my bedside for final goodbyes."

Don knew he should let it go but his heart wouldn't let him. "They would," he declared, didn't doubt the declaration that Tony's former team would rush to his sickbed, would be there if Tony truly needed them. Just their reaction today to Tony had proven that fact to him.

Tony knew who Don was alluding to and wasn't sure if he should debunk the statement or grudgingly agree. Instead he hoarsely replied, "Doesn't matter. They don't get that option either."

Don was about to try and convince Tony to modify that decision when he saw none other than Marcus Riker exiting the bar. "Put your game face on."

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Pulling into the parking lot of the third bar he had visited that afternoon, Gibbs parked his car and then made his call to Ziva and then Tim, only to find they were as unlucky as he was in coming upon a bar hosting Marcus Riker. With a gruff, "keep hitting more bars serving Blue Moon" he ended both calls before he got out of the car and walked for the bar's entrance. On the scale of 1 to 10, he rated this establishment a solid 1 ½ and that was just his impression of the _outside_ of the bar.

' _Grasping at straws, Jethro. That's all this is,_ ' he railed at himself, wished his investigation had come up with more clues than the bartender at the bar down the street from the crime scene remembered Riker stopping in and asking for Blue Moon beer. Riker had made an impression when he was disgusted the bar didn't serve it and walked out without ordering a thing. So that led Jethro and his team scouring bars in town that served Blue Moon beer….all twenty seven of them and that was just this county.

"Should have handcuffed DiNozzo to me so he couldn't run off," he grumbled to himself, wished he had done something, anything to keep the younger man at his side that morning. But wasn't his whole life about lost opportunities? That leave he didn't take when he could have come home and seen Shannon and Kelly again before their deaths, not spending more time with his mother before her passing, his last conversation with his father before he cut off communication, three doomed marriages…failing to show Tony how much he meant to him, and not just as a fellow NCIS agent, before the young man told him to shove it and cut all ties with him and their team.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts he nearly missed the sight of Marcus Riker walking the opposite way in the parking lot. He was pulling his gun even as the fugitive walked behind a big Dodge truck that obscured him from view. But what Gibbs did see in that second was legs hanging out of an open car door two cars ahead of Riker's path as someone searched the inside of the vehicle.

A second later, Tony's head popped up in view through the car's windshield. ' _And if I can see Tony…so can Riker._ ' Panic mixing with instincts had Gibbs swiveling his gun focus back to the Dodge truck, hoping to get a glimpse of Riker that he could aim at, but the fugitive must have come full halt behind the cover of the truck at the sight of the FBI agent rummaging through his car. Not having a shot and fearing for Tony's life, Gibbs shouted out a warning, "Tony, watch out!"

Then things got loud with gunfire, the shattering of a car window and Tony shouting.

Gibbs was about to run for Tony's location when he barely ducked in time to avoid the bullet that Riker sent his way and ended up smashing into the passenger side window of a vette behind the NCIS agent. When Gibbs popped up from his crouch to look over the trunk of a Honda, he couldn't see Riker so he did a crouch run around the cars trying to close in the distance. He felt his heart lurch in his chest as gun fire erupted again, but once again he wasn't the target and that somehow felt like the real bad news. _'Tony!_ ' he thought in terror.

Then he was rounding the bumper of the Dodge truck the fugitive had been behind but it wasn't Riker he found there but Don Epps, lying down on the ground with Tony crouched beside him, hand wrapped around the other FBI agent's arm to stop the bleeding. Gibbs was greeted with Dom and Tony's gun barrels' deadly focus on him as he came into view.

Though Epps immediately lowered his gun from targeting Gibbs, Jethro didn't miss the heartbeats that DiNozzo's gun still sighted him before the newly minted FBI agent cursed, lowered his gun and scanned their surroundings. "He went south," DiNozzo announced.

"Get after him," Don ordered, his tone a bit breathless with pain.

"You're hurt," Tony stated the oblivious, noted the blood on his partner's arm, the bullet imbedded in Don's bullet proof vest and the smear of blood on the concrete under his partner's head.

"Yeah, but not dying. Beside Gibbs can play nursemaid. You go after him, get our shinny recovery record back on track," Don ordered again. This time Dinozzo gave him a nod and then leaped to his feet.

DiNozzo was running full out across the parking lot and onto the sidewalk before Gibbs could interrupt his call for an ambulance for Don to stop him.

Cursing, Jethro watched Tony disappear out of sight before he put his attention onto Epps. But he wasn't in the mood to cuddle the injured FBI agent. "Where we you while Tony almost got his head blown off? He should have never been searching that car on his own without a look out!"

"I was right there!" Don gritted out in anger and physical pain. "Tony was the bait to draw in Riker. I was coming up behind Riker to apprehend him when you screwed the pooch and starting shouting. Which got Riker spinning around to make his escape, only to find me in his way."

Gibbs picked up the narrative at that point. "He got off two shots at you before you could even ID yourself as FBI," something like shame in his tone for his part on the SNAFU.

"Then Riker leaped over me and ran pell mell across the lot. Lucky for us, DiNozzo's one fast sucker, will catch up with him even with Riker's lead time," Don boasted of DiNozzo's skills.

"Yeah and I'm trying to decide if that's the good news," Jethro worriedly admitted. "Riker's armed and won't bat an eyelash about killing Tony or anyone else who gets in his way of escape. He's got nothing to lose, he's looking at a death sentence by lethal injection. He might decide death by FBI agent is a better way to go…especially if he can take out the agent after him in the bargain."

"You're really not an optimistic guy, are you?" Don retorted, though he didn't disagree with Gibbs' dark take on possible outcomes.

"Not lately," Jethro admitted. ' _Not since I lost Tony, I'm not_.' And now Tony was on his own, running down a ten count murderer who hadn't hesitated to put two bullets in Tony's FBI partner. Hitting the speed dial on his phone, he waited impatiently for McGee to answer then he was barking out his location and ordering the younger agent to coordinate road blocks and surveillance in the area to try and pinpoint Riker and Tony's location. He ended the call by growling at McGee to get his butt over there to join the search for DiNozzo and to bring Ziva with him pronto.

His head snapped up as gunfire echoed back to him from a distance and his eyes lanced onto the last place he had seen Tony. ' _Tony you better be alright_!' he threatened even as he heard another volley of gunfire which made his heart thud even faster in his chest. And making it all worse…this was his fault…the screw up on the take down…Tony not being on his team any more, being an FBI fugitive recovery agent, being alone chasing down a murderer. Maybe off getting killed right then with their last words angry and Tony not having a clue that, in Gibbs' heart of hearts, Tony was a son to him…had been since the very early days on his NCIS team.

But like Ducky had said, losing Kelly hadn't been his fault but losing Tony…it was all at his feet. And now if he lost him for good…he didn't know how he could ever come back from that.

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Tony had been eating up the distance between he and Riker when the fugitive abruptly stopped right there on the nearly deserted sidewalk, spun around and took two sloppy pot shots at him. The bullets went wide, one embedding into a telephone pole and the other into a post office box even as Tony ducked into an alleyway, rested his back against the wall. He used the intermission to catch his breath from the full on run he'd been maintaining. Waiting five beats before he popped his head around the corner, Tony saw that Riker was once again on the run. Pushing off the wall, Tony took up pursuit, his gun in his hand but useless unless he didn't care about possibly hitting the innocent people he and Riker were dodging around on the sidewalk.

Ignoring the 'don't walk' signal just as Riker did, Tony got a glancing nip off the hood of a Fiat causing him to body slam into the rear of a Jeep's spare tire wrack in back before he made it to center of the street. He barely managed to take two steps back in time to _not_ get flattened by the city bus. Taking a moment to thank God for not ending him right there, he stood on the double yellow line and waited until there was an almost safe break in traffic before he ran across to the opposite sidewalk. But that all had cost him precious time and he couldn't make out Riker's running figure as the sun sank down on the horizon, made the figures on the sidewalk more shapes than people. Then one shape peeled off the sidewalk to the left across a side street at a run and Tony knew he had his prey again. And more than that, he knew where Riker would end up.

Switching gears, DiNozzo turned around, ran a few paces then bolted down an alley to the left. He didn't let up as the alleyway dumped him onto a deserted one way street that lead to a nice sprawling park of green grass, benches, running paths and a beautiful lawn slopping down to the Potomac River that only boasted a few isolated patrons venturing out into the brisk evening air. Tony saw Riker off to his left, oblivious to their upcoming meeting but still running full out. Pumping his legs with greater speed, Tony made quick work of the expansion separating them and then he body slammed into Riker, sending them both to the ground.

As fate would have it, Riker was on the cusp of the sloping hill when Tony tackled him. It caused their combined momentum to set them rolling and tumbling down the decline, one man struggling to get free and the other to hang on. It was a shock to both men's systems to have their journey end with a wash of near freezing water enveloping them as they crashed into the Potomac River.

Tony's usual luck prevailed…he had been on the bottom of their scuffle when they hit the water and Riker had no qualms about taking advantage of that fact. Abandoning his struggle to loosen the FBI agent's hold on him, he put his efforts into grabbing the agent by the shoulders and using his full weight to submerge and then hold the agent under water.

Lungs already starving for air after his run, Tony hadn't had the time or the foresight or much ability to gulp in a good breath of air before he got dunked. His lungs burned as he was deprived of even the choice of sending them oxygen. Frantically he tried to break Riker's hold on his shoulders, to knock the hands from their grip on him . When that failed, through his watery vision, he saw Riker above him and tried to reach up to try and strangle the fugitive but he couldn't get enough leverage to maintain the hold long enough to do any damage.

' _Anthony, I thought we decided to_ _not_ _die in DC, remember_?' he chastised himself, had thought it was a promise that he could keep when he had left NCIS behind him. Thinking of what Gibbs would think, that this proved he had been wrong to leave him, NCIS, that he wasn't good enough to be an FBI agent, wasn't strong enough or smart enough to make a good Fugitive Recovery agent, it gave Tony a calm determination to not let Riker seal his fate, to not be another 'Gibbs is always right' fable for anyone following the NCIS agent like he was an infallible god.

' _Screw you Gibbs. You're not always right. I'm good at this. And I'm not dying here tonight so you can think I couldn't survive without you holding my hand_.' With those thoughts bolstering him, Tony changed tactics, gave up the fight to push Riker off him, to be left up out of the water. Instead he did the opposite, latched onto Riker's shirt, pulled the fugitive toward him even as he propelled himself deeper into the water onto his back him the bottom of the river bed. Had a brief thought that he was doing exactly what a crocodile did with its prey.

Riker wasn't prepared for the transition and his head sank under the water so quickly that he gulped down a mouth full of River before he thought to try and struggle to the surface. But Tony's hands were coiled in his collar and Riker found he was being used as a lever to propel Tony to the surface even as the man's weight sent him down deeper in the water. Not to mention a solid kick that exploded across his right side, causing him to slam into the river bed and gasp in surprised pain, thereby taking in more water.

Tony's head broke the surface of the water and he sucked in air greedily. But soon that lifesaving intake of oxygen turned into a ragged coughing gaging affair that had him staggering and nearly face planting back into the water. More stumbling than wading, he headed for the river bank, felt a twang of pain in his infamously bad right knee. But when he heard the splash behind him, he knew he needed to do one quick thing before he ended this impromptu swim meet.

Turning around, he saw the thoroughly drenched Riker surging to his feet, coughing up water. With more feeling than finesse, Tony slammed a right cross into the man's jaw and watched dispassionately as the convict careened back under the water. When Riker didn't pop up again, Tony begrudgingly took a few steps to Riker bobbing face down in the water, got a grip on the fugitive's shirt and rolled him over so he wouldn't drown. Then he dragged Riker behind him as he waded through the water to the bank.

Bending over , Tony hefted Riker's limp body onto the shore before he crawled on all fours up the embankment to crash down on his side, occasionally traded up hacking up water for grasping in air. The pain of breathing was almost enough to make him abandon it for a while but his hard won battle over the plague had taught him that pain was a good sign…was proof that he was still alive. At least for another breath or two.

Pressing a fisted hand to his chest, he curled into a ball as more coughs wracked through him and his vision got that black edged thing going on for it. But he couldn't give in to unconsciousness, not with Riker unsecure. So amid his coughing jags, he forced himself to raise himself on shaking arms to a sit beside Riker and reached for his handcuffs…which were gone, probably resting on the bottom of the river. Since improvising was second nature to him, he undid his belt from around his jeans and used it to secure Riker's hands behind his back. That task done, Tony slumped back onto the ground and closed his eyes, would just rest here a bit before hauling Riker and himself back to civilization.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading!

Have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3: Losing Streak

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 3: Losing Streak

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As the ambulance with FBI Agent Epps safely secure in its bay started to move, Jethro pulled out his cell phone, barked before McGee could answer, "Tell me you found him."

"No, Boss. We've been talking to some people who saw Riker and/or Tony but we haven't located either of them yet," McGee reported with regret.

"They didn't just up and disappear! Where are you now?" Gibbs demanded, already backing his car around and heading for the bar's exit.

"Johnson Park at the statues in the center square. Someone thought they saw two men running into the park who were not wearing running attire. They said they were heading toward the square but no one around here has seen them."

Gunning the engine, Gibbs sped toward the park, didn't bother saying anything else to McGee as he ended the call. Earning a few hand gestures and honking of horns, he made it to the park in record time and came to a rough stop at the sidewalk butting the park's entrance. Exiting the car, he barely took the time to slam the car door shut before he broke into a run, hoping he was on Tony's trail and that he would cross paths with the younger man soon…and that he liked what he saw when he got there.

But fifteen minutes later when he saw McGee and Ziva meeting him on the trail from the opposite direction, he didn't take that as a good sign. "Nothing?" disappointment and anger in his tone.

It was Ziva who took the bull by the horns and gave the unpleasant answers to their boss. "No. We interviewed people at the square and its half mile perimeter but there aren't really a lot of people in the park. And now that night is beginning to fall and visibility is not great even with the lights along the path…."

Jethro didn't need to be told that it would only get harder to find Tony at every minute that passed. "Think I don't know that?!" he sharply snapped.

"No boss," came from his two subordinates.

"Then we do another wider sweep, all the way to the White House if we have to. Go!" Gibbs shouted, watched as Tim and Ziva took off at a jog to do his bidding. He was just starting down the slope toward the water when his phone trilled. He opened it without looking at the caller ID, hoping it was someone telling him Tony was found, didn't think he could hope it was Tony himself. "Talk to me," he gruffly answered.

eHe JethJethro almost cringed in dread when it was Abby's excited voice coming through the phone's ear piece. "Gibbs, you can't let him leave. I don't care what you have to do…or say …or promise. You can't let Tony leave again. Promise me he'll stay. You can use your handcuffs on him or the rip tie him to…to a chair or, no, to a car, that way he can't move it. Well, without getting in and driving it…so don't leave the keys in the car."

Gibbs cursed whoever had let the cat out of the bag to Abby that Tony was in town. He didn't think Ziva or Tim or Ducky would have given her that news, knowing it might just do more harm than good if Tony didn't even deem to call or see Abby. No, it had to be Palmer, who was too kindhearted and optimistic for his own good. "Abby, he's here on a case for the FBI, that's all," he tried to instill as much coldness in his tone as he could to shut down her hope. ' _Shut down her hope while you're still clinging to yours that you can win him back? And who's the tough guy around here?'_ he chastised himself as the ironic truth hit him. But then again, Tony always did have him acting against his nature.

A pause fell between the phone connection but when Abby spoke again, her voice quivering like she was fighting back tears. Her question cut Jethro to the quick. "Don't you even want him back?"

' _Like I want Kelly back_ ,' came Jethro's instantaneous answer. But he refused to be that vulnerable, even with Abby, so he gruffly shot back like he was angry not torn apart, "Course I do but his leaving wasn't my decision and him coming back isn't my decision either, Abby."

"But…" she began in protest but Gibbs heartlessly spoke over her. "Abby, I gotta go," and hung up on her before she could say anything else that would further drive his pain deeper. Sure, it wasn't his decision for Tony to leave…but that didn't mean he wasn't to blame. He felt his face flame in shame as he remembered the way he had treated Tony on the last case they worked together….and two weeks later, Tony had handed in his resignation.

And yes, out of all people, Jethro knew that the past couldn't be changed, he couldn't undo his mistakes, couldn't right his wrongs, couldn't save someone who was already gone. ' _But Tony's not gone, he's in this city…probably in this park. You have another chance…you do. So don't blow it._ ' With that determination, he stopped another pair of walkers, asked them if they had sighted Tony or Riker. At the negative response, he kept up his search, wouldn't stop until he found his missing agent…no, not agent, not anymore but Tony was still something to him, and something way fiercer than a friend.

Suddenly Jethro knew how his father might be feeling about him cutting him out of his life, not returning his phone calls, not letting him make amends for past hurts. ' _I should call Dad…forgive him…maybe make DiNozzo go with me on a trip home as punishment for putting me through this hell today ….and the last months_.' And that thought made him smile, knew Tony would enjoy nosing around in his past and that his dad would take an instant liking to Tony. And he vowed to himself that that introduction was going to happen. He'd find Tony, they would work out their crap and his dad would meet the kid he thought the world of. Only thing left to do was get Tony on track with all of it.

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Tony didn't open his eyes but he did cock his gun and point it to Riker when the fugitive showed signs of regaining consciousness and made to sit up. "At this point, I'm pretty sure I'm within my legal rights to shoot you," Tony drawled, his voice cloaked in a hoarseness that hadn't been there before his cold water swim and near drowning. When he sensed Riker had stilled, he opened his eyes and met his captive's angry gaze. "I'd really like to shoot you at least once for bringing me back to the last place I ever wanted to be again so I suggest you don't make any moves I don't approve of."

"Go ahead! Not like I won't have the needle waiting for me," Riker growled but didn't move a muscle, watched as his FBI captor pushed himself upright slowly and gained his feet with even more uncertainty. He looked over his shoulder and watched the agent shuffle onto his right foot, lifting the left to put as little pressure on it as possible. "Besides, doesn't look like you're going to be walking back up that hill and your cell phone's as soaked as mine so no calls for help. We might just need to camp out here…course I might get the drop on you…"

Even as the man spoke, Tony pulled the trigger on his gun , broke the falling night time silence with gunfire. Riker flinched badly before he realized the FBI agent hadn't shot him…had instead shot in the air, had done it to signal his location. Riker cursed under his breath, seeing his chance of escaping custody fleeing.

Somehow Tony wasn't surprised to see Jethro Gibbs race onto the crest of the hill that overlooked his position. He couldn't read the man's expression in the lamp light but then Gibbs wasn't one to give away his feelings anyway. Resigned that he had to be "rescued" by the last person on earth he wanted to owe that debt to, he stood there and waited as Gibbs made his way quickly down the hill.

When they were merely yards apart, they spoke at the same time:

"How's Epps? He doing ok?"

"You alright? You hurt, Tony?!"

Before either man could brow beat the other into replying first, McGee and Ziva were arriving on the scene. "Tony, you alright?" Tim asked, his open concern a welcome counter to Gibbs' gruff interrogation of the same inquiry.

"I'm fine, McGee. Could use the loan of some cuffs because I really want my belt back, got it in San Antonio from a pret-ty expensive leather shop. Hope the cold water dip didn't ruin it," Tony replied as if the belt was his main focus after his heroic capture of Riker.

And Jethro furiously thought, ' _That's just like Tony, to deflect, to think we should care about a dumb belt more than him and his wellbeing_.' That he shouldn't care that Tony was shivering after having taken a soak in the frigid river and stood wet in temperatures now near freezing, that Tony wasn't able to put much weight on his right leg and had the pallor of a ghost. But no one should care about any of that …because Tony's _belt_ might have gotten ruined.

"Ziva, McGee take Riker into custody," Gibbs ordered, wasn't surprised when DiNozzo heatedly objected.

Forcing his voice to not reach a decibel of a yell like his ex-boss would have done, Tony opposed, "No you don't! He's my prisoner and he's already in my custody." He grabbed Riker's elbow when Ziva pulled the convict to his feet.

Gibbs stepped forward and put himself in between Riker and Tony, faced down with his former SFA. "Tony, he's still your prisoner, and he'll be remanded into your custody in the morning. We're just parking him at NCIS for the night."

"You forget, I know your stalling techniques. Then you'll convince SEC-NAV to back your play for the collar and I'm out one fugitive recovery star," Tony tossed back at Gibbs, wasn't in the mood to have the man play his ego games with him.

"What I thought…DiNozzo, was that you would want to stay the night, go check on your partner, make sure he's alright," Jethro drawled like a reprimand that Tony wasn't thinking that same thing, was concentrating on gold stars instead of his partner.

Tony felt his face color in shame. Don…yeah, in all the heated battle of wills with Gibbs he forget about his partner, his _injured_ partner. He recovered quickly enough to go on the defensive. "My partner, who would not have gotten hurt in the first place if you hadn't stuck your nose into our arrest. My partner that you were  supposed to stay with, to make sure that he was ok."

Jerking his head to the right to indicate Ziva and McGee should head up the hill with Riker, Jethro watched Tony give in with ill grace and release his hold on Riker. Then the junior NCIS agents manhandled the convict up the hill, leaving Tony and Jethro alone.

"I did stay with Epps until he got loaded into an ambulance," Jethro defended himself to one of the few men in the world worthy of that type of humility from him. "I sat there on my hands while you went after a ten count murderer on your own, hearing the gun fire and not knowing if you were alright. So I'd say I honored your request."

Ignoring Gibbs' intentions to pretend he was worried about him, Tony challenged, "And you never answered me. How is Don? What did the paramedics say?"

"Blood loss from the through and through in his arm, maybe a cracked rib from the shot his vest took and a concussion from the head injury. Nothing life threatening," Jethro reported stiffly, wanted Tony to know he knew that it had not been just a request for him to stay with Don, it had been a trust instilled in him: To be there for his partner when Tony had to leave. A trust Jethro hadn't broken, no matter what Tony thought.

Exhaling in relief at the good news, Tony was punished with another bought of coughing that bent him over at the waist. But he shuffled away from Gibbs' hand when it came to rest on his back in a gesture to comfort him. When the jag of coughing had finally diminished, he felt lightheaded but he pushed to his full height, all the while hoping he wasn't swaying on his feet. Well _foot_ because his left knee was still not taking his full weight, causing him to lightly rest that foot on the ground.

Brow furrowed in concern as he watched Tony's oxygen depriving coughing, Jethro ached to cinch himself to Tony's side and help the other man in any way he could…regardless if the Italian welcomed his assistance or not. But he held himself back…barely. Luckily before his resolve to remain a helpless spectator to Tony's misery corroded fully away, the FBI agent got his breathing back online, albeit it left in its wake the agent with a hoarse hitch in each breath and a shivering in his stance.

Having never really needed Ducky to instill in him time and again the vulnerability of DiNozzo's lungs since the YPestis incident, Jethro already knew the greater risk DiNozzo ran for respirator problems than 90% of the population. A risk that grew when said kid got dunked in filthy cold river water and stood outside in 35 degree weather soaked to the bone. Hurriedly shedding his coat, he stepped forward and draped it around Tony's shoulders without permission.

"I don't need your coat…" Tony hissed, ready to rip the coat off his shoulders but Gibbs fisted his hands in the coat's collar and held his coat closed over Tony's chest.

Stepping closer to Tony, Jethro sank his eyes into the younger man's. "You're gonna take my coat and shut up about it because I'm not letting you get sick, DiNozzo,"

"My sick days don't affect your team performance reports anymore, Agent Gibbs," Tony condescendingly bit out, not backing down from Gibbs' stare down nor allowing the NCIS agent to continue his wrong assumption that he got to boss him around like an errant school boy anymore.

Jethro wanted to shake Tony, hard. Wanted to break though the walls Tony had erected to keep him out, to keep the entire team out. ' _Your anger, your refusal to be vulnerable got us into this mess,_ ' he groused internally at himself, ' _don't make more wrong moves, not now, not with Tony.'_ So instead of shaking Tony, he released his hold on the younger man but didn't step back from his proximity. "Well, then you can't accuse my concern as being self-serving."

Tony's eyes narrowed at Gibbs' uncharacteristic use of the word "concern." But in the next second he labeled it another ploy by the NCIS agent to get his own way, to come off as the hero in the tale of his own making. So he openly scoffed, "Concern?" There he shook his head even as he smiled, "You don't do concern, you don't _have_ concern for anyone…well maybe for Abby and Ziva. Must be a woman thing."

Gibbs couldn't help rolling his eyes at Tony's conclusion. "Right, _I'm_ the one who treats woman differently."

Getting Gibbs' insult against his own relationships with women, Tony couldn't fight down his anger. He said lowly, tauntingly, "Guess we both have mommy issues. I'm convinced deep down every woman is just like my dear old mom, rather kill herself than commit to spending another second with me. And you, _Jethro,_ " he drew Gibbs first name out with disdain, maybe because he had never earned the honor of calling the man by that name in all the years they had known each other, was only deemed worthy to call him "boss" or his surname, like Gibbs was royalty. "You are always running around trying to get a carbon copy of your mom to fill that hole in you…or maybe it's Shannon's likeness you're searching for in every redhead…."

Instantly Gibbs hands were coiled around the lapels of his coat still draped over DiNozzo, the grip nearly in a choking grip as he hissed, "Stop right there, DiNozzo."

But Tony didn't have the self-preservation to back down, instead gave a ballsy smile of malice. "What? You can hand out the barbs and insults and cut-you-to-the-bone insights but you can't take them in return? That's like the first rule of the playground, Jethro. Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he coldly recited. Then he roughly knocked Gibbs' hands from his neck, shoved the borrowed coat into Gibbs' gut and shoulder checked the NCIS agent as he started his way of the hill.

Jethro cursed under his breath at Tony's stubbornness before taking a few running steps to catch up with the younger hurt man. Without warning, he looped his arm around Tony's waist and at Tony's angry facial expression, he retorted, "Grouse all you want but I'm helping you DiNozzo."

"Why? So I can be in your debt?" Tony caustically tossed back, knowing that he wasn't up to physically breaking the NCIS agent's hold on him but had high hopes he could verbally achieve that goal with some well chosen accusations.

But Gibbs didn't rise to the bait, said quietly and calmly, his eyes holding Tony's, "No, so you don't permanently damage your bad knee." When Tony opened his mouth to make an objection, Gibbs started them again on the task to climb up the hill but he couldn't hold back the next cutting words, though he knew it was coming out of a place of anger…of fear. "After all, you wouldn't want to do anything to end your ability to do the field work you love so much."

Tony gritted his teeth at the obvious jeer about their last NCIS case together, at Gibbs' accusation that he had been careless, reckless and just down right stupid for doing the undercover op. That Tony was such an adrenaline junkie who leaped before he looked just to feel alive. Never mind that he was doing his job, that his actions resulted in an arrest no one else had been able to do, that he saved lives with his leaping-before-he- looked mentality time after time.

Even as his breath hitched at the exertion of walking up the hill with his aching lungs and throbbing knee, Tony managed to let out an angry exhale of mock confusion "huh," before he continued. "And here I thought that you'd love if I got permanently sidelined with an injury, _again._ That would make two careers my knee cost me. Course then I'd have to try for the hat trick, right? Pick another career that I could tank before I totally crippled myself. My father would say it's nothing more than I deserve…and so would you."

That had Jethro jerking to a stop and roughly spinning Tony to face him, snarling in his face. "How the hell can you not know me at all after spending six years together?! You think I want you hurt, that I get some sick satisfaction when you fail."

Tony didn't blink under Gibbs' wrath, instead he pulled on a smug smirk. "I think you like being right. I think it boosts your god complex when others fail where you succeed. I think it's a fool's errand to ever think you would have the _guts_ to honestly care about someone besides yourself." Then Tony was the one stepping closer to invade Gibbs' personal space as he lowly accused, "Not everyone who loses someone they love turns into a bastard who refuses to love the people they still have left in the world. But you and my father, you've made that reaction a work of art." Then he pulled on his trademark bitter smile. "Too bad I'm not into art, am more of a movie guy." Then he extracted himself from Gibbs' hold and started his trek up the last few feet of the hill again.

Suddenly McGee was there, rushing back to him and looking concerned and anxious and uncertain. "Tony, can I…will you let me….You're hurt and …." The young agent stammered, wanting to help but terrified it would be rejected…or worse, make the rip in his friendship with Tony even bigger.

But without a word, Tony raised his left arm shoulder high and Tim got the message, instantly ducked under Tony's raised arm, glued himself to Tony's side and wrapped an arm around the man's waist before the twosome started to make their way up the hill. "Abby's going to be beyond ecstatic to see you," Tim said because it was a thousand times easier to talk about Abby's feelings about Tony's presence than his own. Because where Tony accepted and believed in Abby's affection, Tim's he readily rebuffed and downplayed and seemingly distrusted.

"No, she won't because this isn't a reunion tour," Tony coldly replied. "I'll be gone in a few hours."

Having begrudgingly trailed a few yards behind the two younger men, Jethro almost sighed when he overheard Tony's comment. A few hours…that's all he had to patch up the broken relationship with Tony. Bleakly, he wondered if he even had a few _years_ to accomplish that feat if it was possible.

And the real kicker was, it had only take but a few days filled with words that never should have been said to do all this damage. But then again, there had been years of words unsaid that had done just as much if not more damage to his relationship with the kid he valued more than his own life.

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TBC

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And for those reading at home…spoiler alert: Flashback coming up next chapter!

Have a great day!


	4. Chapter 4: Blame & Boats

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 4: Blame and Boats

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Tony entered Don Epps hospital room as quietly as he could doing his gimp leg shuffle in case the other FBI agent was getting some much deserved sleep. However, Don was awake and a look of relief washed away some of the strain on his features at Tony's entrance. With surprise, Tony realized his partner had been fighting to stay awake until he made an appearance.

Certain that Epps' main concern was the success of their job, Tony smiled widely and boasted, "You'll be happy to know that I restored our glorious recovery record. Us 1: Riker 0."

But Epps didn't join in on Tony's celebration of their victory, instead he jerked his chin toward Tony and demanded, "Are you limping or are the drugs I'm on messing with me? And are you _wet_?!"

"Not limping…favoring. You know because one leg should get babied every once in a while," Tony jestingly answered.

"Un huh," Don murmured in open skepticism before he pressed, "And let me guess, you're not wet but sweated through from the rigorous exercise of chasing down Riker." Because he had caught on earlier in their partnership to Tony's whimsical way of explaining away his pain and discomfort so no one did something embarrassing and worried about him.

Tony readily played on Don's statement. "I'm not saying I'm out of shape but I was always better at a sprint not a marathon. I mean, basketball courts aren't that long right? Back and forth and forth and back, bounce the balls a few times, shoot the hoop. No need to rack up the miles in footwork."

But Don wasn't buying any of it. "And I guess your voice is all hoarse from all the marco polo you played with Riker before you caught him."

Snapping his fingers, Tony pointed at Don with a wide smile. "You are so on the money tonight."

Don snorted at that. "Right, that's why I'm laid up here sporting a concussion and souvenirs from two bullets."

That wiped the humor mask from Tony's face as he stood at the foot of Don's bed. "Don, I'm sorry about not having your back. It shouldn't have gone down like that and I…."

"Whoa, whoa, I wasn't looking for an apology, Tony. I'm the one who didn't adapt to unforeseen circumstances," Don quickly interjected.

"Don't know if Gibbs has ever been called that," Tony bitterly muttered. "I don't know what he thought he was doing there…."

"I was backing you up, DiNozzo," Jethro announced as he came fully into the room, earning the attention of the two FBI agents.

"Really, I call it screwing up our operation," Tony caustically volleyed back, his anger at Gibbs' burning brightly, and not just about the FUBAR of the day.

Tony's anger got Jethro's temper flaring right alongside it. Turning to face Tony, Gibbs retorted, "It was NCIS's case the minute the body hit the cement in the alley of that bar. Our jurisdiction, our case, _our lead_ we were following. And your _plan_ would have gotten you killed if I hadn't been there."

Tony gave a malicious bark of laughter. "Oh, right, Gibbs to the rescue to save us mere mortals." But then his eyes frosted over and his tone was frigid, "But you didn't rescue anybody. Instead you nearly got Epps killed and let our fugitive slip through our net. But admitting you made a mistake….that's not in the Gibbs' rule book is it?"

"Riker had the drop on you, was going to act before Epps could make his move," Jethro projected.

"Riiiiggghttt, I forgot, I'm a screw up who can't do his job. And by association, Epps is lousy too, right?" Tony challenged heatedly.

But before Jethro could make his comeback, a shrill whistle interrupted them, which seemed to be FBI Agent Fornell's way of making his presence in the room known.

Holding his ears and his head, Don winced in pain. "Oh, Fornell, did you have to do that?!" his concussion not happy at all with loud, shrill noises.

Fornell came to Don's bedside, gave the agent's legs a pat and apologized, "Sorry Epps. I'll take your guests outside so you can work on healing up." Then Fornell turned to DiNozzo and Gibbs and pointed at the door.

"Tony wait…" Don called. When his partner came to his side, Don waited until Fornell and Gibbs were out the door before he spoke, his eyes lancing into Tony's to make sure his words were taken seriously, "Hey, me getting hurt was not your fault. Don't let Agent Gibbs convince you any different."

"The days of him convincing me of anything are over," Tony countered but Don's expression only darkened with further worry.

"You sure because I know you take things to heart…." Don said not with criticism but with concern.

But Tony gave a goofy laugh of denial. "No I don't."

"Yeah, yeah you do. But don't, ok. And I promise, tomorrow I'll be well enough to get out of this town," Don vowed, would sign himself out AMA if he had to but either way, he was going to make sure Tony wasn't subjected to anymore interactions with his old team. Even if he wasn't half as perceptive as he was at reading behind Tony's careful masks, he'd still know his partner was in pain. And that just wasn't acceptable.

Caught off guard by Don's inference, Tony simply nodded his head, bade, "'Night Epps" and then he was walking out of the room. He almost contemplated slipping down the hallway, hopefully unnoticed, when Fornell and Gibbs' low heated conversation reached him.

Gibbs was cross examining Fornell. "If my team hadn't been working this murder case, would you have told me DiNozzo was in town?"

To Fornell's credit, he didn't blink an eye as he icily replied, "No."

Gibbs' face got that super nova look about it and the NCIS agent stepped farther into Fornell's personal space and lowly growled, "You owed me a heads up, Tobias!"

"I don't owe you a thing," Fornell drawled but then seeing Gibbs fists going into clench mode, he goaded, "What? Are you going to punch me again, Jethro?"

' _Again_?!' Tony thought, hiding his shock that blows had been exchanged between the two friends for some reason in the past. Not wanting that to occur again, for him this time, he vetoed his escape plan and stepped up to the two men having a face off. "Hate to break up this boys-will-be-boys moment but I need a ride back to my car, Fornell."

"I'll give you a ride," Gibbs readily offered, immediately forgetting Fornell's presense as he turned to Tony, hoped his offer wasn't going to get shot down.

Before Tony could summarily deny Gibbs offer with something less than civility, Fornell was latching onto his arm and stating matter of factly, "The only place you're going is to the Emergency Room to get checked over."

Jethro knew what Tony's comeback was going to be even before the younger man opened his mouth. And he wasn't wrong.

"I'm fine," Tony denied jovially, like Fornell's suggestion was so ridiculous that it was funny.

But Tobias tightened his hold on the younger man as he sensed DiNozzo was about to try and extract himself from his grip. His eyes holding Tony's, not with a command but an entreaty, he quietly said, "Tony, go get examined…please."

And as much as Tony wanted to protest...he couldn't. Not when Fornell was talking so gently to him, said please. Made it seem like he cared, was concerned for Tony's wellbeing. Not daring to look at Gibbs, not wanting to see the man's expression, Tony nodded his head in soundless acquiesce. Then Fornell released his grip on him and Tony started his way down the hallway at a snail's pace with his pronounced limp.

Stunned, Jethro watched Tony obey Fornell's meek request. Knew that for him to get Tony to agree to get medical help he would have needed to make it an order, snarl out a threat and deliver a head slap. And even then Tony would have grumbled the whole way.

As if reading his thoughts, Tobias quietly said with a touch of sadness, "Sometimes I think you didn't know that kid at all, Jethro." Then, without expounding on that statement, Tobias walked away, left Jethro turning that declaration over in his head. It was a bitter thought, that Tobias could be right. That, if he knew Tony like he thought he did, the last time he, Tobias and Tony had worked together, that NCIS case wouldn't have been Tony's last before he turned in his resignation.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

 _ **SIX MONTHS AGO**_

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

"Come on Boss, I can do this. Only a couple of hour of undercover work and we can get our arrest," Tony pitched to Gibbs. "I already have a backstory from my undercover work in Philadelphia and Kristen's not hating what I'm selling."

Gibbs gave a sardonic smirk to his senior field agent. "Right, sounds great…you undercover with a girl. How'd that go last time? Oh yeah, you let it get personal. _Real Personal_."

Fighting back a wince at Gibbs's ruthless reminder of Jeanne Benoit, Tony lowly shot back, "Glad to know you're not about rubbing my past mistakes in my face."

FBI Agent Tobias Fornell chose that moment to intercede into the two NCIS agents' debate. "Jethro, the kid's our best play and you know it."

Without shifting his focus from Tony, Gibbs growled to his old friend Tobias, "What I know is I said no."

Unfamiliar defiance burned through Tony at Gibbs' refusal, at his boss's blatant lack of trust in his undercover skills, skills that Jenny had faithfully relied upon to get the Frog and Fornell wasn't questioning now. Turning to Fornell, Tony intently declared, "And I'm saying yes."

Jethro's well known anger flared to record heights as he stepped further into his junior agent's personal space and thundered, "That's not your call DiNozzo!"

Before Tony could react to his boss's fury, Fornell joined in on the fray and countered Gibbs' claim. "Right, it's your _director's_ call." Then he was busy making a call on his cell phone.

While Fornell was distracted, Gibbs yanked Tony aside. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Ah..my job. You know catching bad guys," DiNozzo smart mouthed back but there was anger creeping into his features.

"With sound plans not some half-baked idea for you to carry out in the middle of the ocean with no one having your six!"

Gibbs words had Tony speechless for half a minute before he gave that dark bark of laughter that bespoke of buried pain and anger. "Oh, no one having my six…you mean like when you were in Mexico and didn't take any of my calls. Or when my own "team" was too busy complaining that I wasn't _you_ to care about something trivial like making sure I didn't get wasted on a case. Been there, done that."

Jethro gritted his teeth at the allegations but didn't contest any of them. Because, the trouble was, he didn't know if he had enough _right_ or _proof_ to refute his younger agent's charge.

But Tony wasn't done, thought of a post script to add. "Oh, with one exception: Fornell. He's got a pretty good track record of giving a crap about calling people back, offering and delivering backup when requested. Even stopped by in the middle of the night when a B&E got snarky."

And it stung more than Jethro would ever admit for Tony to praise Fornell while he found so much fault with him. "So now Fornell's your newest hero on a pedestal since I fell off?"

"He doesn't have to be a hero, he just has to give enough of a crap about me to answer the phone when I call," Tony scathingly retorted before he walked back to stand by Fornell.

Ending his call with a "Thank you, director Shephard" Tobias lanced a beaming smile on the two NCIS agents now back at his side. "DiNutso, your director just gave you the all green."

At that very unwelcome news, Gibbs stormed off and Fornell and DiNozzo watched him go.

"He's royally pissed. If you don't want to do this…go against his wishes…" Tobias offered an out to the younger man standing at his side. He honestly didn't want to see the relationship between his friend and the likeable young agent destroyed.

Tony cut across Fornell's offer, "This isn't about Gibbs' wishes…it's about arresting Giacchino." Then he torn his focus from Gibbs' car burning rubber out of the parking lot and faced Fornell. "Don't suppose you have like…one hundred grand lying around the FBI discretion fund that we could tie in a nice bow for me to present to Giacchino doing a sunset cruise tonight in exchange for some charming RPGs and a slew of nifty handguns?"

Tobias slung a companionable arm around Tony's shoulder as they both turned toward his car. "As a matter of fact, I even have a nice Italian leather briefcase to put it in."

"Italian leather, nice," Tony oohed.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

Flying by Director Jenny Shephard's secretary, Gibbs stormed into the NCIS's director's office, was stabbing his finger at his ex-partner seated behind her desk as he demanded, "You're gonna rescind your approval to whore out DiNozzo to the FBI."

Putting down her pen and sitting back in her seat, Jenny smiled as she beheld her most troublesome subordinate. "You're in fine form today."

"Just do it!" Gibbs shouted, hands slamming down on her desk as he tried to cower her into doing his bidding.

Standing up and rounding her desk to stand toe to toe with Jethro, Jenny said in a voice frigid enough to cool the sun, "Don't forget your place, _Agent_ Gibbs. I make decisions and you stand by them. Is that clear?"

Unblinking at her tone, Jethro jerked his head negatively. "No, not again. Last time you put Tony undercover, he nearly got blown up. So excuse me for not trusting his life to your decisions."

"I am the director and I can utilize my agents in any way I see fit. If you can't accept that, I can go ahead and file your retirement paperwork, Jethro," Shephard laid down the law.

Jethro cursed silently to himself. He was going to threaten to quit again as leverage over Jen, but that bargaining chip was apparently a dud. It left him the uncomfortable option of having to break down and beg. "Please Jen. Don't allow him to do this."

Not sure how to take a pleading Gibbs or what really brought the gruff man to such lows, Jen softened her tone, "Jethro, Tony's an exceptional undercover operative…."

"You think I don't know that?!" Jethro shot back.

But Jen didn't back down, instead ventured back with a tinge of steel in her tone, "Thought maybe you forgot that detail...along with the usual trust you have in Tony's abilities."

"It's not lack of trust!" Jethro fumed, upset that Tony's character was getting besmirched in all this.

Sighing, Jen leaned back against her desk and crossed her arms, waited a moment and when she knew Jethro wouldn't break the new silence, she prodded, "Then what is it?

"You want me to beg, Jen?" Gibbs challenged, stepping closer to his boss. "You want me to vow to kiss your boots every day until I officially do retire years from now? You want me to volunteer to complete the evals for the national report I usually refuse to do? Well, I'll do any of it if you'll just forbid DiNozzo from getting on that boat."

Taking off guard by Gibbs' totally unexpected entreating, Jen held Jethro's gaze and stated what should matter most to her as the director of NCIS, "We might not get this case closed if we don't pursue this approach. You and I and Fornell know that."

Gibbs shrugged. "Then it's another unsolved case on the pile." Jethro was more than willing to trade an arms dealer's escaping a prison sentence to keep Tony from getting dead on some rash undercover sting put together in ten minutes prep time. The future consequences of this lost opportunity to arrest Giacchino..Jethro couldn't think about them, about the innocent lives that might be lost due to the guns the dealer would sell in the days, weeks, years to come.

Not being brave enough to point out the consequences she knew Gibbs would have already calculated if they aborted the undercover operation, Jen instead asked in genuine surprise, "You're that certain Tony will fail?

"Kid's never truly failed me," Jethro answered with conviction, glad for the opportunity to rectify the director's belief that this was in any way a lack of faith in Tony.

Confused, Jen began, "Then…"

Jethro didn't need her to ask the full question. "If he gets into trouble out there, we'll be too far away to help him." When Jen still looked unconvinced of his argument, he hoarsely bared his soul to the woman he had loved once upon a time. "I already thought I watched him die through a satellite uplink when his car exploded, I can't do that again, Jen. I can't….I won't."

Finally Jen got it and it was her heart not her director edicts that had her nodding in agreement and picking up her phone to call Fornell. "Agent Fornell, I'm sorry but I'm changing my mind about Agent DiNozzo's involvement in your investigation." As she listened to Fornell's reply, her eyes shot up to Gibbs'. "How long ago?" A grimace distorted her features. "I can't guarantee that," she grimly announced before she hung up the phone.

"You can't guarantee what?!" Gibbs demanded even as his gut was screaming at him that things were about to go all wrong.

Meeting Jethro's anxious gaze, Jen exhaled. "That you won't kill Fornell."

A chill raced down Jethro's spine as he came to the conclusion of Jen's conversation with Fornell. "Fornell already put Tony in play." When Jen nodded, Gibbs kicked over a chair, cursed a blue streak before bolting out the door.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

The car slid a few feet on the parking pavement as it was asked to go from 70 mph to 0. When the driver's door flung open, Gibbs emerged seemingly at a run. He raced down the boardwalk, eyes already searching for one particular boat docked in the harbor. His steps faltered to a stop when he stared down at the empty slot for #73. Giacchino's boat was gone…and with it Tony.

Digging in his coat pocket, Jethro pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. He didn't give Fornell a chance to even offer a greeting. "If something happens to Tony, I swear to God Tobias, I'll make your life a living hell."

"Jethro, calm down. Your kid can do this…in his sleep if half the stuff in his personnel file is correct. He's a born undercover agent. I thought you of all people should trust him to do his job and do it well."

' _Again with the trust accusation_?!' Jethro seethed, causing him to nearly roar, "This isn't about trust, this is about him out there" and he pointed to the ocean beyond, though Tobias couldn't see his gesture, "without any backup! None!"

"Kid likes flying without a net and he's good at it," Tobias tried to placate his old friend, which just pissed Gibbs off more.

"This isn't about what he's good at! This is about you knowing I didn't want him out there! I said no to this operation…"

"And your _director_ overturned your vote, _Agent_ Gibbs," Fornell coldly reminded in his best pissed-off-but-still-in control FBI tone.

"She changed her mind!" Gibbs shouted back.

"Yeah, wonder what card you played to get that to happen. But it came too late, DiNozzo had already charmed his way into the arms deal."

"You went behind my back! You and DiNozzo both," Gibbs venomously accused, knew if either man was standing before him right then and there, he'd punch one or both of them.

Sighing, Tobias knew Gibbs' fury was out of fear for the kid he was as possessive of as a proud dad. Knowing what was driving his friend. He tried to give the man a pass this one time on his accusatory attitude. So he forced his voice to be calm as he replied, "No, we didn't, Jethro. Everything was above board and you know it."

Gibbs recalled the conversation clearly of an hour ago and wished he had been able to head this disaster off right then and there. "Tell me you have a tracker on him..on the money, that you have a bug so you can hear what's going on out there."

Quietly and with regret, Tobias answered, "You know we couldn't risk that."

"What you shouldn't have risked was Tony!" Slamming his cell shut, Jethro fought the urge to throw it into the water lapping against the boats moored in the harbor.

NCISNCISNCIS

Having a gun pointed at his head by an arms dealer while cruising on a yacht wasn't exactly how Tony saw his day going when he woke up. Yes, the yacht was lavish enough to have Robin Leech of the old TV show "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" salivating and the caviar and malt liquor on deck earlier had taken his taste buds on a new high. But the afternoon of bullets and bodily battering wasn't going to put this sailing trip on his top ten list anytime soon.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

TBC

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Hey, I had to slip in at least one cliffie!

Thanks for everyone reading and reviewing, favoriting this story!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W


	5. Chapter 5: Spell Check & Unplanned Rides

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Chapter 5: Spell Check and Boat Rides

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Ignoring the gun barrel inches from his right eye, Tony climbed to his feet but kept his arm wrapped around his ribs that were flaring pain after Giacchino, the drug dealer host of this cruise, had one of his goons pretend Tony's gut was a replacement for his punching bag. Upright, he let his eyes take on his most patent, 'I'm so not afraid of you' gleam as he did a stare-down with the mid fifty year old 6"1 Mick Giacchino, who's dark complexion and hair reminded Tony of the stereotypical mob boss in all the movies. "Brutalizing your clients…not the best way to ensure repeat business. Neither is killing them," he pointed out, not with fear but almost as if he had the advantage in the situation and was threatening Giacchino.

"Not sure you're a client at all, Mr. Foster. Your references are… _suspect_ to say the least," Giacchino drawled, though he kept the barrel of his gun sighted on Tony's head, he casually leaned back against the couch as if they were discussing Sunday Night Football scores not whether Tony lived or died.

Tony smiled and gave a mock laugh. "My references are suspect, huh? Well my money's not and, if you need someone to hold your hand and tell you that you can trust me, why not call your good friend Phil McCalister. He's out of Philadelphia, case you didn't know."

Giacchino's eyes narrowed. "You know McCalister? Did business with him?"

"Un huh. Repeat business as it turns out, which is likely NOT going to be our relationship. But, then again, I do have to put the ambiance of the location of your deal and the food as a major selling point for rating this exchange higher than it should be, considering your poor manners now," Tony drawled, matching Giacchino's carefree tone.

Giacchino turned to Kristen, the beautiful blonde bombshell Tony had met with to get brokered into this deal. "You knew he worked with McCalister?"

Kristen nodded her head and gave a toothy stunning smile to Tony. "McCalister was only too happy to talk about his past relationship with Mr. Foster."

Tony's heart did a stutter stop at this new development, had thought since Giacchino and McCalister were bitter rivals that Giacchino would never reach out to McCalister to do a character check on him. Sure, his undercover never ended with an arrest of McCalister so the man didn't know he was a cop…at least he hadn't six years ago. But now…who knew.

"And?" Giacchino testily prodded and Kristen forced her attention from Tony back to her boss.

"He said Foster was a peacock and didn't like getting his hands dirty but his money was green and fresh even if he never would shut up," she informed, giving Tony a flirtation wink to counter McCalister's rude description.

Burying his relief that McCalister hadn't uncovered the truth about him in all these years, Tony joked, "Ouch. McCalister's slam about me not shutting up, that hurts. And here I was always so helpful to give him good reviews on his 'Linked in for criminals' account. Shows you never really know what people think about you until they talk about you to someone else."

Finally Giacchino lowered his gun from its deadly sight on Tony's eye. "Guess it's time for me to judge for myself how green and fresh your money is Mr. Foster."

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

Through his vantage point crouched down behind a yacht ten over from the #73 slip, Gibbs waited impatiently for Giacchino's yacht to finally get moored. And then the second the lines were coiled around the dock posts, he was popping out of his hiding spot, running for the boat, him and seven FBI including Fornell. They boarded the boat before Giacchino's crew knew it was even happening.

Within minutes the occupants of the boat were secure in handcuffs. A perfect takedown. Except for one small problem: Giacchino and Tony weren't on the boat.

Having triple checked every hidey space the yacht had to offer, Gibbs got into Fornell's face. "Where's Tony, Tobias?! Tell me that?!"

"Calm down, Jethro. Giacchino's not here either so it smells of a backdoor procedure he plays by. Never comes back to the port he leaves in," Tobias calmly theorized, couldn't afford to let his own frustration…or concern show while Gibbs was already on full panic mode.

Gibbs eyes turned even more glacier. "That sounds like something you should have known about _before_ you put my guy on this boat! And it makes it a little hard to arrest Giacchino when he's not _here._ "

At that, some of Fornell's calm façade cracked. "I think I understand that, Jethro!"

"You understand that…well, that's just great! Do you also understand that this could mean the reason Giacchino did this, this theorized "backdoor procedure", is because he _killed_ Tony, dumped his body in the ocean and now Giacchino's putting as much distance as he can between the murder scene," at that he gestured to the boat they were standing on, "as he can?!"

Instead of trying to verbally counter the NCIS agent's worry, Tobias laid his hand on Jethro's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "We'll bring him back to you, Jethro. Like you always say, kid's a survivor."

At Tobias's kindness, Jethro drew in a shaky breath and ran a hand down his face. "He's a survivor until he's not."

"I'm not counting him out and neither should you," Tobias encouraged and then he pulled on a small smile. "Besides, no way does that kid go willingly into the drink and ruin the Tom Ford suit he's wearing."

That got Gibbs' eyebrows rising. "Wait, you expensed a _Tom Ford_ suit for DiNozzo?! He'll whine even more than he already does next time we only agree to expense a polyester suit for his undercover work."

Fornell gave a real smile. "I know."

With a lighter heart, Jethro nodded. He'd get Tony back and he'd endure his whining like it was the gift it was to have him in his life.

Just then Gibbs' phone trilled. "Gibbs."

Immediately, Abby's excited voice rambled in his ear. "Gibbs, I turned on Tony's phone and tracked it. And it's like…in the middle of the water but moving fast. I can't determine where they might dock up but we can give the coast guard the coordinates and they can hopefully intercept the boat."

"Good job, Abs," Gibbs praised but as relieved as he should feel, his gut was telling him there was something about to go wrong. And an hour later, it seemed to be proven right. The coast guard had seized the boat and arrested Giacchino. However, for the second time that day, Tony wasn't onboard, but his phone was hitching a ride in Giacchino's pocket.

Gibbs felt his fury rise at his senior field agent as he put two and two together. Tony had apparently clandestinely slipped his phone into Giacchino's pocket, knowing that when he didn't make an appearance at the harbor, his NCIS team would track his phone's location. In doing so, yes, Tony had insured Giacchino would get arrested…but it also meant that Gibbs had absolutely no idea where Tony was. That fact pissed Gibbs off so badly that he wanted to punch someone. And since Tony wasn't available, Fornell was looking like a nice backup plan.

Feeling Gibbs' glower on him, Fornell turned to his friend. "Kid's quite the strategist." When Gibbs didn't jump in to praise his own agent, Tobias quietly instructed, "Trust him, Jethro."

"What I _trust_ DiNozzo to do is to take foolish risks to get a win!" Jethro growled bitterly, was adding up how often his senior field agent almost got himself killed and it was a staggering number of times. He fought down a wince at the memory of watching Tony's car explode, thinking he had lost him. ' _Like I might have today._ ' And that fear was now superheated into fury. Pointing a finger at Fornell, he vowed, "And that crap ends today. You might have strong-armed him into this but he gladly put himself into the danger, without researching the possible outcomes or having adequate back up and _without my permission_. It's time he faces those consequences."

Before Jethro could storm away from him, Tobias grabbed the NCIS agent's arm, delaying his escape. "Jethro, I'm scared for him too but when we find him, _which we will_ , don't let your fear make you do something you'll regret."

Refusing to admit that what was prompting his anger was fear, Jethro denied, "The only ones doing something they should regret today is you and DiNozzo." Then he ripped his arm from Tobias' hold and stormed off toward the nearest coast guard officer. 

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

 _ **PRESENT DAY**_

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

When the hospital elevator doors opened, Tony almost found himself run over by McGee as the younger NCIS agent practically sprinted from the elevator car. But luckily Tim brought himself up short in time. "Tony, I came to make sure you made it to the hospital. I would have given you a ride here. You didn't have to have that cop take you."

And Tim admitted, if only to himself, that he had felt cheated…even hurt when Tony readily exchanged his help for the cop's. And sure, Tony knew the cop and the cop had come up to Tony with concern as they did their two man march to the park's parking area, but Tim had worked with Tony for years, that should have made Tony loyal to him first, trust him most.

Even as he sidestepped Tim and limped into the elevator, Tony was regaling McGee with one of his usual animated explanations. "Ricky owed me since I was designated driver after his latest girlfriend dumped him. That man should definitely _not_ drink when he's already depressed.…he did the saddest karaoke of "It's hard to say goodbye to yesterday" that I've ever heard."

Encouraged by Tony acting …well like Tony and the lightheartedness of the other man's tone, Tim felt like things might not have changed after all between them. It made him impulsively shoot back an insult like he usually did when Tony told one of his tales about his vivacious friendship outtings that Tim envied so much, "Couldn't be any worse than your singing outside that restaurant in those bum clothing. I even felt sorry for the dog…course I suspect he might have been deaf considering he didn't go howling and run off at the first string of your guitar playing."

But any good humor Tony's memories with Ricky had instilled in him bled out of Tony's face at Tim's words. Roughly, he punched the floor one button on the elevator. "I'd say this reunion has been fun, McGee…but it hasn't been," he coolly said as the doors were closing, shutting out McGee. He silently cursed when Tim clumsily dodged between the doors, didn't even take any delight in the kid's grunt of startled pain as the door impacted with him and then reopened to admit him.

Trying to recover some of his dignity, Tim calmly took the two steps he needed to enter the elevator car and hit the floor one button like it wasn't lit already. As the doors closed, he looked nervously at Tony, expected the other man to make a slam about him getting pinned between the doors in his rash decision to join Tony in the elevator. But Tony was staring straight ahead, was pretending he wasn't there.

Tim nearly sighed, knew it was up to him to breach the silence. Turning to DiNozzo, he began, "Tony, I know you had your reasons for leaving us…NCIS…our team.." He fully expected Tony to jump in there, to snap at him, but the other man still acted like he didn't exist. And it hurt…just like watching Tony walk out of the NCIS bullpen and knowing he wouldn't be back the next day…or the next. Tim shifted on his feet, as he tried to form the words, "I just wanted you to know…." But then the doors were opening and for a man with a bum knee, Tony made good speed exiting the elevator.

Taking up pursuit, Tim soon paced Tony down the hospital hallway. "Tony, can't we just talk for a minute?" and Tim didn't care that there was a palpable pleading note to his words.

But Tony didn't latch onto Tim's vulnerabilities like he usually would have, instead remained silent as he made his way to the ER front desk. Then he unleashed his trademark brilliant smile on the petite pretty twenty something brunette woman behind the desk. "Well, hello. If I knew you'd be here waiting for me, I would have gotten myself injured much sooner."

That earned him a blush and a timid smile from the receptionist and Tim couldn't help but chuckle. Some things didn't change after all. Not wanting Tony's flirting to delay the injured man from getting seen by a doctor because, seriously that should have happened half an hour ago when Tony _arrived_ at the hospital, Tim cut in, "What he's too shy to say is, he needs to see a doctor. He has respiratory complications and he's hurt his knee."

Not looking at Tim, Tony kept his smile fastened in place and his eyes on the receptionist. "FBI agent. 'Danger' is my name."

But then a grouchy older woman entered the conversation, practically threw her clipboard on the desk between Tony and the pretty receptionist. " ' _Danger'_ goes under last name on the form. You'll probably need help spelling respiratory so maybe your young friend can fill this out for you." Then she was jerking her head to the young woman receptionist who obedience got out of the chair and walked away, but not without giving a blushing smile to Tony.

His flirting bluntly over, Tony sighed and went to pick up the form the hag had tossed down, was surprised when Tim snagged it. "She was joking McGee," he stingingly drawled, making a grab for the clipboard but Tim held it back, instead headed to two open chairs and took a seat. With resignation, Tony limped the short distance and dropped into the chair beside Tim. "I know how to spell respiratory…" At Tim's doubtful look, Tony amended, "Ok, I know how to spell plague…..ok, lung."

"Yeah," Tim agreed then he got busy filling out Tony's form. Tony couldn't help leaning over, checking the probie's work. "Hey, how do you know my birthday year? I never told you when I had my knee surgery or that I got shot in Peria. Were you McSnoopy and looked in my personnel file after I left?!"

Tim couldn't help but smile at the Mc name Tony gave him, he had actually missed hearing them. A lot. "I'm an investigator, Tony. You injured your knee in College after two years in varsity. As for the bullet wound…I saw it one time."

"McStalker?! And here I thought Ziva was the one after my body."

Tim couldn't help smirk. "I think you're wrong on both accounts." Concentrating on filling in Tony's info, he tried to make his next words sound like a throw away question. "Any injures that I should put down that happened in the last six months that I don't know about?" He was hoping that Tony had been taking care of himself, and in lieu of him and Gibbs and Ziva being there for him, that his partner Don had filled in that protective duty.

"Ah…you almost sound like you've been worried about me," Tony taunted, had always been able to read McGee's sneaky intentions to mislead him from what he was really thinking.

Being caught red-handed, Tim stilled writing, put the pen down and faced his former partner. "Maybe because I have been. We all have been. Tony, we didn't have any way to contact you and Agent Fornell wouldn't help us."

Instead of answering McGee, Tony pointed to a section on the form. "You misspelled pneumonia."

Without shifting his look from Tony's face, Tim denied, "No, I didn't. " Then he huffed out a breath in nervous frustration. "Tony, we've missed you. **All** of us." Not sure of the exact details but he knew Gibbs was at the heart of the reason Tony had resigned…and was the one who felt Tony's absence the worst. The man had turned stoic into statue, barely grunting out one word a day and was so quick to anger and with such ferocity that Tim had expected Gibbs' computer, cellphone and car would be lost to violence.

But Tim's declaration only sparked anger in Tony and his eyes snapped up to McGee's with coldness. "Missed your punching bag? Having someone to head slap? Someone to blame? Someone to play block guard to Gibbs' anger? Someone to disrespect? To get in the way of you being Senior Field Agent?" his last question very pointedly thrown at Tim.

"No!" Tim vehemently denied, realized he was too loud as he saw the busy waiting room's occupants looking his way. Dropping his voice and facing Tony, he denied again. "No. None of that, Tony."

Tony, however, unleashed his cocky I-know-when-you're-lying smile. "Senior Field Agent Timothy McGee. You love the sound of that, don't you? Probably make all the witnesses and suspects call you by your full title on every case, right Timmy?"

"No," Tim solemnly replied, knew that Tony was partially right and felt shamed at that. Which is probably why he confessed, "I'm not." At Tony's raised eyebrows of inquiry, he clarified, "Senior Field Agent. Gibbs…he won't replace you."

Tony refused to take that news as anything to do with him personally. "He's just making you salivate for it. It gives him cheap thrills for people to beg him. Throw in some bourbon while you're getting on your knees begging and he'll change your business cards before the week's out."

Tim felt shock wash over him, had never heard Tony say anything disparaging about Gibbs…certainly nothing as bitter as he just had. "Tony….that's not…Gibbs isn't…."

But Tony didn't let Tim's floundering continue, met Tim's hero worship with bone crushing steel. "What, McGee? Gibbs wouldn't screw with you like he does his suspects? Wouldn't manipulate you? Wouldn't keep things from you? Wouldn't curse you, head slap you instead of praise you? Wouldn't let his ego and pride come before anyone else's feelings?"

And McGee didn't know how to counter any of Tony's accusations. ' _Maybe because they are somewhat true_?' his mind traitorously retorted.

Taking the medical form from Tim's hands, Tony felt a moment of suppressed affection for Tim surface at the younger man's tremulous expression. With something close to compassion, he quietly imparted, "We both know that you're smarter than I ever was McGee. You know how you deserve to be treated. You know how good you are. Don't be like me."

Stunned at Tony's words, at the other man's rare heartfelt comments, Tim opened his mouth to ask ' _don't be like you in what ways_?' but then his phone trilled, demanding his attention. He looked chagrinned at Tony as he saw the ID was Gibbs.

"Go, Tim. You've got a job to get back to and I've got a knee to get patched up," Tony quietly said, giving Tim his blessing to leave him.

"And your lungs…they need to make sure the river water…"Tim mother- hennedly began to remind his former partner who tended to conveniently forget time and again to get examined after he was injured..or confess to the medical personnel all his injuries.

"Yeah, you already ratted me out to the receptionist on that one, McTattle." But Tony could see Tim was still reluctant to leave him. "Scout's honor that I will tell them about the river dunking, the near drowning and the knee spasms."

"Wait, near drowning?!" Tim sputtered, hadn't known about that detail but then his phone was ringing again.

"Answer it, McGee, before he blows a gasket," Tony instructed, listened as Tim answered with a "Yes Boss." Tim held Tony's gaze as he demurely said, "On it," even as he got up from the chair. But he stood there until Tony gave a nod, let him go with that simple gesture.

Nodding back, Tim turned away from Tony, replied to his boss's next question, "Yes, Ziva's with Riker. I can be there in fifteen minutes." Then his boss abruptly disconnected their call like always did and Tim couldn't keep Tony's descriptions about Gibbs from running traitorously through his head. Once again Tim wondered how bad things had really gotten between Gibbs and Tony on that last case that it had managed to shatter apart everything good between the two men.

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 _ **SIX MONTHS AGO**_

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The wind whipping through his hair, the sea breeze clearing away the smells of cigarette smoke, Tony could almost imagine this was a pleasure speed boat ride. Well, except for the two armed body guards that were sharing the ride with him. Speaking loud to be heard as the boat cut across the moonlit water, "Not to be a nag but I left my car back at the harbor. Are you going to reimburse me for my long cab ride back or is that another hidden price of doing business with Giacchino…like the bruised ribs and the distrust."

The bodyguard with the dark hair and even darker eyes who had taken such pleasure in punching Tony earlier smiled like he knew something Tony didn't. "He'll make those things up to you the next time you do business together."

Knowing he couldn't seem like a pushover, Tony retorted, "You're forgetting that I never agreed for there to be a next time."

The bodyguard said nothing. However, Tony remembered how Giacchino had laughed when he had made that statement and had coiled a hand around Tony's shoulder and gave a squeeze that might have been meant to be companionable but shot pain through Tony's body instead. "Oh, Foster, we have a future together, I'm sure of it."

Tony had tried to take that statement as a reassurance that he wouldn't end up feeding the fishes. So he had smiled, almost felt the emotion too. "I guess as long as your little trinkets please my clients…that doesn't seem out of the realm of possibilities."

Giacchino had given his shoulder another squeeze before he mercifully let go. And just when Tony thought things were going swimmingly on track….Giacchino was saying his goodbyes and got into a speed boat and well…sped off. Leaving Tony on the yacht with a cache of weapons and a NCIS/FBI team waiting to arrest Giacchino back at the harbor, a harbor Giaachino had no intentions of returning to.

The only bright spot…Tony had managed to slip his cellphone into Giacchino's pocket. So when he and Giacchino didn't make an appearance at the harbor and either the FBI or Abby traced his cellphone, they would at least get a bead on Giaachino's location. And if things went right, have Giaachino in custody before dawn.

As for his own fate, Tony was presently taking a boat ride with two armed, muscle bound bodyguards to an unknown destination, which hopefully was a shore point and not the depths of the ocean. Because if he got himself killed, if Giaachino didn't get arrested, Gibbs' lack of faith in his abilities would be proven right. And that didn't sit well with Tony…just like Gibbs' distrust hadn't.

After all, he had headed up the team when Gibbs was busy sipping bourbon in Mexico. He had run an undercover operation for Jenny right under everyone's noses, including Gibbs', quite successfully. And he had gotten invited to this arms deal in mere hours with his charm, past undercover work's solid persona and, oh yeah, his friggin' awesomeness as a NCIS agent. Something Gibbs didn't seem to acknowledge.

And though Gibbs' lack of praise or anything resembling respect of his skills wasn't really new, after everything that had gone on the last few weeks, it just felt intolerable to Tony. What with Gibbs just up and leaving, not returning any of his calls while in Mexico but coming back as soon as Ziva needed his help, Gibbs shoving all his stuff back on his old desk and taking back the team like Tony had been a poor replacement. Not to mention McGee and Ziva's attitude toward him while he was team leader. It all lead up to something bitter growing in Tony's gut.

So would he give Gibbs the satisfaction of being right that he shouldn't have done this undercover? Not a chance.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	6. 6: Synchronized Swimming & Mad Dads

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 6: Synchronized Swimming & Mad Dads

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Six Months Ago

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Tony felt his skin crawling with every nautical mile he got further away from the harbor where the FBI and Gibbs were waiting. He needed things to do a U turn and fast because unless he could get the cache of weapons in the hidden compartment under his feet, Giaachino's bodyguards and himself into the hands of the FBI, all Giacchino would get charged with was possession of marked FBI money _supposedly_ taken in an arms deal. To truly nail Giacchino for gun running, the weapons needed to be confiscated on Giacchino's boat with Giacchino's goons, which meant no docking in some exotic locale unknown to Fornell and company.

' _Well this might end badly but…_ ' Tony thought before he set his plan in motion. "Wonder what this boat cost your boss?" he directed to the bodyguards who didn't bother to turn around to give him any of their attention. But that didn't stop Tony from talking more. "I know this guy that likes boats…well, _building_ boats, not sure he knows a lick about being _on_ a boat in actual water. Hey, you think I could take a turn at the wheel?" he asked, putting enthusiasm into his tone as he stood up, fought against the wind bracing him and took a few steps toward the captain's chair. He stumbled a bit when the present boat's driver yanked the wheel to the left to purposely jolt him.

The bodyguard deadpanned a one worded denial to his request: "No."

Pulling on his most charming smile, Tony attempted to persuade the driver and his companion to his way of thinking. "Come on, guys. Giacchino will never know. Scout's honor that I won't tell him," he said, raising his three fingers in the scouting pledge gesture.

The goon not driving snorted, derisively corrected him, "That's the girl scout hand signal." The ' _moron_ ' tag on was unspoken but understood.

Undeterred, Tony rambled on, "Ok, yeah, never a boy scout myself. Too many rules, am I right? So what if I lay a Ben Franklin in each of your hands, totally under the table, tax free, for a five minute spin at the wheel?" Putting action to words, he pulled his wallet out, was extracting the two hundreds when the driver snagged the two hundreds and two more from his wallet and passed the extra two bills to his friend before he dropped the boat into a slow speed. Then stepping back from the wheel, the driver gestured for Tony to take the helm.

Tony gushed with gratitude, "Thanks guys, well worth the two …four hundred," as he slipped past the bodyguards and sank into the captain's chair. He made a show of cracking his hands before he reverently put them on the boat's steering wheel. He seemed content to let the boat stay at the crawling speed as he moved the boat from side to side like it was a bumper boat at an amusement park. "Wow, this thing handles like a charm!"

The goons exchanged looks behind Tony's back, rolling their eyes at the simplicity of the dude their boss had thought worthy of doing business with. It just proved to them that the top dog wasn't always the smartest dog. They were in the minute of those traitorous thoughts when Tony sent the boat from 5 mph to 45 and yanked the wheel hard to the right. The forward momentum sent both guards tripping backwards and the rash change in the boat's direction caused the former driver to topple over the side into the Atlantic Ocean. The remaining goon was pushing himself from the backseat where he had landed on, ready to ball out the numbskull arms buyer for his poor driving when said numbskull came rushing at him and slammed a powerful roundhouse right into his jaw.

Stunned and in pain, Giacchino's bodyguard tried to maneuver out of the corner of the boat, to raise his hands to ward off another attack. But Tony saw an opening and sank an uppercut into his ribs and clipped him with an elbow to the temple before he could even regain his lost breath. Falling, the bodyguard braced himself on the side of the boat. Sensing Tony's presence behind him, he slipped down, dodged under the NCIS agent's intended punch to his right cheek. The bodyguard flailed out more than planned his counter attack. Felt grim satisfaction when his glancing blow to Tony's gut elicited a grunt of pain, remembered then that the man's ribs had already taken a beating and he aimed to exploit that weakness.

But as the bodyguard pushed himself upward and his fist swung out, it met only air. With grim respect, he admitted the buyer was fast, too fast. Resolutely making up his mind that he was done playing games, he reached for his gun…and found his holster empty.

"Sorry, I've got some issues to work out about having sticky fingers," Tony drawled as if it were an apology even as he waved the goon's gun in his hand. He didn't bother to smother his smile at the other man's embarrassed and thunderous look. "Now let's see how well you swim." And he gestured over the side of the boat with the gun. When the bodyguard didn't move, Tony cocked the weapon in his hand. "See, I don't have cuffs on me and I'm really not feeling that I can take your word that you'll sit in the corner and play nice like a good little boy until my backup arrives."

"You're a pig?" The bodyguard snarled, hated to think what Giacchino would do to him for getting busted _and_ losing his weapons shipment all in one boat ride.

"Federal agent, actually," Tony corrected before he musingly elaborated, "I was a pig…cop…but I upgraded a few years back. But enough about me, let's see how your synchronized swimming lessons with goon #2 are coming along. I really think those routines should come back in style, should make a showing in next summer's romantic comedy. What do you think?"

The bodyguard look was all hatred. "What I _know_ is Giacchino is not a forgiving man. He will kill you for stealing his weapons."

"Stealing?! No, they were bought and paid for …though, to think of it, I didn't get a receipt…might play havoc with an IRS audit," Tony blithely rambled in his specific brand of nonsense before his false humor bled away to reveal his gritty NCIS agent persona. "Anyway, your boss will have a little more on his mind than property recovery today. Now, enough chit chat, overboard you go."

With a string of curses the goon lumbered toward the side of the boat. With his hair blowing back from his face and his legs trying to compensate for the boat's fast motion over the pretty calm seas, he asked of Tony "You're not going to slow it down?"

"Where's your courage?!" Tony jeered, gesturing again with the gun toward the water.

With a parting glare of death, the bodyguard did a painful belly flop into the drink, Tony winced at the man's bad form, rated it a 2 before he dodged back to the steering wheel. He gave a yelp of surprise and panic at the sight of a big metal buoy in his path and feverishly yanked the steering wheel to the right. The boat managed to swerve around the buoy with millimeters to spare.

Seeing no new obstacles in his path, Tony looked over his shoulder, only slowed the boat to a stop when his overboard companions were mere dots bobbing in the water. Then he reached for the boat's CB, turned it to the coast guard channel and drawled in his best Dukes of Hazzard twang, "Breaker breaker, this is Rosco P. Coltrane, anyone read me?"

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 _ **PRESENT**_

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It was hours later before Tony escaped the well-meaning hospital staff's clutches with a semi-ok bill of health. Some lung congestion from all that nasty intake of river water, bruises here and there from the tumble down the hill and yes, his bad knee was now in a brace. On a good note, there was no new damage done to his knee, just simple exasperation to the existing. Few days sporting the brace and crutches and he'd be back to his million-dollar-man self.

Pushing open Don's hospital door, Tony made his awkward one legged dash into the room before the door rebounded on him only to find that Don already had a guest. He immediately wanted to turn tail when he heard the older man's words to Don.

"….I knew this job was more dangerous than you told me it would be. ' _More about searching than action_ '…that's how you explained it to me. Well, looks like too _much_ action to me," the man reproached with open anxiety as he pointed an accusing finger to the bandages Don was sporting.

Don attempted to placate his father's panicked concern. "Dad, I'm fine." Before he could say more he caught sight of Tony trying to do a U turn out the door. "Tony, hey."

Caught in the act, Tony sheepishly maneuvered himself back around on his crutches. "Ah, hey. I didn't know you had company so I'll head out…" ready and willing to try and go backwards out the door using his crutches.

But Don's face was creasing in that worried look of his at the sight of his partner. "Whoa, whoa. You're not going anywhere before telling me what the doctor said about your knee and your lungs." As Tony opened his mouth to make a lighthearted joke, Don commanded, "And let's go with the truth, Tony, because I know you didn't just agree to wear the brace and use the crutches to get women to fawn over you."

Tony couldn't hold back a smirk. Don knew him so well sometimes. But that didn't mean he was going to just open himself up to his new partner because of some gentle words and a knowing look. So instead of answering Don, he turned to the other man in the room. "Mr. Epps, it's a pleasure to meet you," he charmed, extending his hand for a handshake…that wasn't met. Instead dark eyes lanced into his own with steely scrutiny.

"So you're the partner that let my son get hurt," Alan Epps accused, crossing his arms in his judgement stance that his sons knew all too well.

Horrified that his father was blaming Tony for his own faults, Don hurriedly denied, "Dad, no! Calm down."

Alan's voice only rose louder with anxiety as he swung around to face his hospital bed bound son. "Calm down when I got a call that you've been shot?! No, calm doesn't work for me, Donnie."

Wanting to redirect Mr. Epps' anger from Don, Tony took a step to Don's side, put himself in Mr. Epps' line of sight and agreed with the man's earlier words. "Mr. Epps, you're right. It was my job to have your son's back."

Alan readily jumped on Tony's confession. "Have his back and his front and all sides of him. If I can't trust you to do that…."

Tony flinched at the word trust, thought he had amended that personality flaw this time, that trustworthy was his new watchword.

Struggling to sit up in the bed, Don exclaimed a little breathlessly, "Dad, back off! It wasn't Tony's fault."

That only caused Alan to pin his glare fully on Tony again. "If not your fault, then who's, huh?" daring the federal agent to lie to him, to make excuses for why his _son_ was almost killed on his watch.

A new voice made answer. "Mine."

The room's occupants turned as Gibbs came to stand just inside the door. His eyes doing a hit and run with Tony's distrustful gaze, Jethro faced Don Epps' father's wrath. "I'm the reason your son got hurt, not Tony."

Eyebrows raised at this newcomer's declaration, Alan frostily demanded, "And who are you? Another incompetent FBI agent?"

Pissed that Gibbs seemed to think he needed his protection, Tony drew Mr. Epps' attention upon himself again as he answered, "No, he's an NCIS agent and my ex-boss."

Alan shook his head in frustration. "Great. More agency initials that I don't understand."

Wanting to temper the tension in the room, Don interjected, "Dad, it doesn't matter. Hey," and he reached forward far enough to snag his dad's sleeve and garner his father's full attention. "I'm going to be fine, Dad. You didn't need to fly here…fact is, the hospital shouldn't have contacted you."

Alan felt hurt slosh through him at his son's words. "And why's that Donnie?! You don't return my calls for months and months and now I have no right to know why my son almost dies?!"

"I didn't almost die," Don quickly denied.

"Does your body know that?" Alan caustically shot back, because apparently he knew his son better than his son knew himself.

Knowing that he and his father needed time to talk in private, Don turned to Tony. "Tony, can we type up our report in the morning?"

"Yeah, sure, Don," Tony readily agreed, honestly hadn't thought at all about the paperwork end of the day they had had. Then he was making his way to the door, a part of him glad to be excused from the father and son exchange. Not because of the heated disagreement between the two men but because of the obvious love they felt for each other. Don's father's concern was palpable, his anger…justified…and it was nothing that Tony had any experience with. His own father hadn't even shown up when he got the freakin' plague.

He almost forgot Gibbs' presence but then the man was there in his path, opening the door for him and following in his wake out of the hospital room. "DiNozzo" and Gibbs saying his name was enough to be the kindling to light the fire of his anger.

Managing to spin with some speed to face Gibbs, Tony coldly stated, "You've never defended me before, there was no need for you to break that habit now." For a second, Tony caught the surprise in Gibbs' features either from his statement and/or anger before the older man buried all emotions under his impressive facial mask of indifference.

"When _haven't_ I defended you?" Jethro shot back, was already tallying all those events in his head.

Tony's reaction wasn't to do addition in his head but was straight up fury at Gibbs' implication that he _needed_ defending. "Because I was such a disappointing agent, right? You had to cover my screwups so you didn't look bad, so your precious record didn't get tarnished, is that how you see it?" Tony moved closer, got in Gibbs' personal space. "What I know is I helped you get that success record and keep it. Me, not McGee, and not your precious Ziva."

"Is that what this whole thing has been about? Jealousy?! Of Tim? Of Ziva?! That I didn't pat you on the back enough times, give you a 'good boy' treat whenever you just did your job, didn't screw up?!"

Tony hated that he flinched at Gibbs' words, hated more that they were partly true. Swallowing hard, he hoarsely retorted, "Guess you should thank your lucky stars that me and my insecurities are no longer your problem."

"You quit, I didn't make you go! If you'd stop distorting things, you'd remember that I wanted you to stay!" Jethro flung back at Tony, furious that no one seemed to remember that important point, not Abby, not Ducky…and now not Tony.

"Because I took your abuse like a good little boy, even said thank you for the pain?" Tony drawled with a tone deadly in its evenness. "And you didn't think you'd find another fool to do that, did you? Down deep you know that Tim has enough self respect to not put up with it long."

"I got you in NCIS, on my team! I saw what no one else saw in you!" Jethro growled, left unsaid his thoughts _. 'I let myself care about you, when I swore I wouldn't let myself care about the people I worked with, that it would be all business, nothing personal. That I would not take the risk of caring. Not when it always ended badly.'_

But Tony stuffed down the gratitude he had always felt for Gibbs for believing in him, let the pain, the hurt that corroded those feelings over the years bubble to the surface in its place. "And you used me and my skills without having to ever hurt your own ego to boast mine with compliments. The great Jethro Gibbs never needed anyone else. His team…just tools for his greatness. Its members as interchangeable as one of your handheld sanders."

"If I was so awful to work for, why'd you stay more than two years?! Why'd you break your record for me?! For NCIS?!" Jethro challenged, truly wanted to know what he had once done right…and had done so disastrously wrong lately.

Tony offered up a painful smile of self-reproach. "Because it's always taken me awhile to determine how much pain a little bit of love is worth. Took me fourteen years and nearly breaking my back in a polo accident at school to see that my father's version of love…it wasn't worth waiting in the hospital all alone, wondering if I'll ever walk again, of stupidly clinging to the hope that my dad cared enough about me to cut his "business trip" short. Deluding myself, it was my favorite pastime until then. But after that, I manned up, accepted that expecting people to give a crap about me…it was a mistake. Still, it seems it's a mistake I apparently have to learn over and over again."

Turning to go, Tony came up short at the unexpected presence of Abby, standing there with tears running down her face, having overheard most of their conversation.

"Tony, we care about you," she croaked out, her eyes beseeching him to believe that, know that in his heart.

Tony couldn't deny her declaration but he could qualify it, had had time to put things into perceptive, even as it ripped him apart. "Scraps of affection, that's the extent of it."

"What?! No, we love you, all of us!" Abby proclaimed, desperate for Tony to acknowledge and accept their love, her love. Tony was her brother in all the ways that mattered and him being gone these past months…it was hard, even harder in ways than losing Kate to death.

Kate didn't leave her on purpose.

Abby's declaration inflicted more wounds in Tony because they were just words, like his father's promises. Words…but nothing you could count on, didn't mean anything when the hurt came and he was all alone to deal with it. "When Gibbs was gone, all you cared about was getting him back. You, McGee and Ziva, you just wanted me to get him back and when that failed, you wanted me to be a clone of him. You didn't want _me_ at all."

"That's not true! We wanted …needed you, like we do now." Rushing to hug him, Abby thought to make it all better.

But Tony caught her by the arms, held her back, away from him. "Too little, too late, Abby," he deemed, not with anger but raw regret. Seeing the pain flare in her eyes and her shoulders slump in dejection and hurt, Tony squished down his guilt for his part in that. Numbly, he released his grip on her and used his crutches skillfully to slip by her and head down the hallway.

When Abby made to go after Tony, Gibbs grabbed her hand, held her in place. Jethro felt like he got punched in the gut when Abby's beseeching eyes turned to him, pleaded with him to make things better.

"Gibbs, we can't…he shouldn't…." Abby choked out, for once she couldn't formulate the words.

"I know, Abs, I know." Jethro pulled her into a hug as he watched Tony disappear out the hallway doors. And it was there again like it had been that day in the harbor: that feeling like he had lost something irreplaceable. Not when he thought Tony might be dead but after he got Tony back, after he said things he never meant, when Tony walked away and he didn't stop him. Maybe in his heart he had known that he couldn't stop him, that he had done too much damage to repair. That sometimes children didn't get taken from their families…sometimes they left of their own accord.

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SIX MONTHS AGO

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Tony came back to the harbor like a conquering hero.

As the coast guard boat docked at the harbor, Gibbs watched as DiNozzo stood on the deck, laughing and charming up the beautiful coast guard woman and it just made Gibbs more furious. Suddenly Jethro felt duped, like his frantic worry for Tony had been foolish, like DiNozzo didn't care the hell that he had put him through the past hours. That Tony thought, like always, that hitting on a woman was appropriate behavior during a case.

"Hiya boss. Was a beautiful day out on the sea, can see why you're hooked on boats now," Tony greeted as he meandered off the boat onto the dock, took the time to give a coy wave to the coast guard lady before deemed it time to focus again on his boss.

"Gotta say, DiNutso, you do have all the right moves," Fornell praised with a smile for the younger NCIS agent's amazing operational skills and his unbelievable luck finding the best and brightest of the ladies.

Shooting Fornell a glare that would have incinerated a lesser man, Gibbs grabbed Tony by the arm and yanked him away from the FBI agent and any other nosy listeners.

Dropping his hold on DiNozzo, he spun to face his agent, shouted right in Tony's face like his old marine drill sergeants used to do, "This the kinda crap you pulled in Philadalphia?! In Peria and Pittsburgh before that?! It's a wonder you lasted even two years without getting fired. Can't believe I haven't kicked you out on your can before this!"

Tony was totally caught off guard by the onslaught of cruel insults instead of the expected gruff congratulations he had hoped to garner. Righteous anger settled in and he yanked his arm from Gibbs hold. "You threatening to fire me?!" more dare than dismay in his tone.

"I should after this screw up but I'll pacify myself with two weeks suspension," Gibbs shot back, secretly glad his words had taken the air out of DiNozzo's hero parade.

"For what?!" Tony demanded, his voice rising an octave in his outrage. "Doing what no one else has been able to do: getting Giaacchino arrested?!"

"Let's start with disobeying orders, DiNozzo! I said no to this undercover!" Jethro thundered.

"And Jen said yes!" Tony volleyed back, couldn't believe they were arguing about this now when the mission was over and deemed a resounding success on all fronts.

"So it's ' _Jen_ ', huh? You think because you charmed her and were her 'yes man' while I was gone that now you get special privileges…" Jethro jeered, the hours of worrying taking their toll on his usual better judgment with words, especially those addressed to Tony.

Body humming with indignation at Gibbs' innuendo, Tony coldly retorted back, "I call her by her first name, I don't get the special privileges you once did."

Gibbs' face darkened and he stepped inches closer to Tony, lowly growled, "You do not want to take things there."

But Tony wasn't cowering under this time, wasn't backing down against Gibbs' anger. "But it's ok if you accuse me of inappropriate relationships with the _director_ of NCIS, if you make a joke out of my love life on the job with audiences like Fornell?! Demeaning me, well, that's just another perk of your boss status, right?"

"If you didn't deserve demeaning, maybe I wouldn't have to resort to it," Jethro heatedly countered, hands fisted at his side so he wouldn't start throwing punching at his senior field agent,

"Ah, right, back to my shortfalls," Tony bitterly seemed to agree with Gibbs before his eyes darkened as they bore into Jethro's. "Maybe you're forgetting that I made this arrest happen…without you, I might add."

"You should be lucky no one died for your ego trip today, DiNozzo! Course maybe body counts don't matter to you anymore when you have Fornell to impress." The sickening worry that DiNozzo would be among that body count was still coiled inside him, not yet able to be dispelled like a bad dream. And then there was the spike of jealousy that had only soured his gut more and more the longer he rehashed Tony's earlier praise of Fornell's loyalty, the way that DiNozzo had dove head first into this case to impress Fornell, trusted Fornell to have his back…and not him. Now his sour gut was spewing out of him with harsh words and even harsher insinuations.

"Least Fornell _can_ be impressed," Tony undertoned, would have given a lot for Gibbs to be the one to praise him on the docks instead of Fornell but wishes were useless.

Holding back a flinch at Tony's deference for Fornell's good opinion and not his, Jethro bit out, "So what happened in Philadelphia? Why didn't this Foster arms dealer cover of yours there result in an arrest of Phil McCalister? Apparently you screwed up. Did someone have to pay for your mistake with their life?"

Buried memories slammed into Tony of Philadelphia, of Phil McCalister, of a gun forced into his grip and a man kneeling in front of him, expecting to die by his hand. "What you call mistakes I call _choices_. I made a _choice_ in Philadelphia and I stand by it. Like I stand by my choice today."

"To go against my orders?!" Gibbs coldly challenged.

But with unshakeable conviction Tony replied, "To do my job!"

"I tell you what your job is, _Special Agent_ DiNozzo! You don't make it up as you go!" Jethro shouted, terrified what choices Tony would make on his own next undercover operation, of how he would risk himself without thought.

"Oh, the old: Do as I say, not as I do, huh?" Tony drawled with disdain. "That's more a fortune cookie phrase than a rule for me to live by."

At that, Gibbs went to head slap Tony but the younger man, for the first time in all the years they had known each other, grabbed his wrist, arrested the assault. Fingers clenching almost painfully around Jethro's wrist, Tony snarled at his boss, "You don't get to hit me or humiliate me for being right, for you being wrong."

Ripping his hand from Tony's grip, Jethro pointed a finger at Tony, callously corrected the younger man, "This isn't about right or wrong, this is about me not being able to trust you to do what I tell you to do."

Tony paled at the accusation, had to take a few moments to compose himself but even then, it was a half crazy, bitter laugh that escaped him. "You don't trust _me_? That's almost funny. You're the one **I** can't trust. Where were you when I really needed you?! I'll tell you where, you were hiding out from your responsibilities sipping bourbon in Mexico. You didn't give enough of a crap about me to call me back, to even care how I was dealing with the team you broke and dumped in my lap, to check in just once to see if I was still alive."

Guilt surged through Jethro but he chose to cover it with a biting jeer. "What?! Are you five years old, DiNozzo?! You need me to hold your hand when life gets a little rough?!"

Tony swallowed hard, and then he shook his head, quietly said, "No. No, I don't need you at all anymore." Walking by Gibbs, he headed down the docks, didn't know where he was going but knew with cold certainty that he couldn't stay. That he had stayed long enough. Too long.

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Tbc

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Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	7. 7: Past and Present Regrets

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 7: Past and Present Regrets

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For Tony, it felt like he was heading into a suspect's apartment instead of his own, as if he was going there to seek out clues for why or how a murder had been committed. That he had assumptions for what he was going to find but no real certainty. But as he dug out the key and fitted it in the lock, he knew that he was wrong, he knew exactly what he would find when he opened the door. The furniture, the piano, the pictures on the wall, he had left them all behind, not just reminders of his time at NCIS but of his mother of his father, every scrap of his past that held painful memories. And there seemed to be a lot of it. Left him leaving that night with little in his car but his clothing and a few personal items he couldn't bear to let go of.

Swinging the door open, he found he was right…and wrong at the same time. The room, the apartment, it was as he had left it, yes but things had changed, there was a layer of dust on everything. And one of the pictures wasn't on the coffee table where he left it, was tossed on the piano keys, its frame broken on the bottom and its glass shattered, the picture underneath peppered with glass shards but still intact, a picture of his NICS family, smiling, even Gibbs in a rare moment of good humor due to whatever Abby had said to him before Ducky's camera's timer when off.

Hobbling into the room with his crutches, Tony sank down into the sofa, leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted in ways that physical endurance was only partly to blame. Emotionally he was near his breaking point. And it was almost funny because he had convinced himself he had gotten through the worse of it six months ago.

When he had left NCIS, Gibbs and the others, he had done his best to leave civilly, to not lash out, to not wound, to leave his own hurts hidden. Didn't want to punish them, not even Gibbs, for whatever real or imagined pain they had caused him. He had conceitedly wanted to be 'the better man'. And then fate had screwed him over, forced him back here, made him face them again and all his hurt, all his anger…it wasn't gone, wasn't healed, wasn't scabbed over, was a living breathing disease eating him up. And when they pushed him, when Gibbs pushed him…all of that poison just overran his fortifications, came out and drown not only him but Gibbs and Tim and Abby and everyone in the vicinity, even Don and his father weren't safe.

Suddenly feeling sick to his stomach with regret, Tony leaned forward, bowed his head between his knees and willed himself not to throw up. Viciously he cursed, hating his weakness, that he hadn't gotten over this, that he was still acting like a hurt kid who lashed out at his parents and any adult who wanted to tell him he had acted poorly. But he had done this already, had broken ties, had moved on. Had even done it well, with what some might call grace. Had ended his NCIS career in a fashion he had been proud of.

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Six months ago

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Though Jen, _Director Sheppard_ , had been surprised, she had respected his decision to resign, as if she knew this was coming long before he did. There was the brief offer of another SFA position and maybe, down the line, getting his own team elsewhere but his cool refusal settled that quickly enough. But then she did him the kindest thing she ever had: she told him she appreciated the two week notice but wasn't holding him to it, that if he wanted, she would let him leave that day. It was both thrilling and terrifying, that ending so close, to leave and not come back. For his decision to be made and over, for the next chapter of his life to start. With a silent nod, he agreed.

Then he made the slow trip down the stairs, knew the gauntlet he was about to face. Drawing in a steadying breath on the last step, he made the turn and walked back to his desk, made two quick calls and then waited, putting his focus on his computer screen and ignoring the weight of Gibbs' stare across the distance between their desks.

He stood up when Abby, Ducky and Palmer arrived, knew the threesome's conversation on the stairs up there had been all about his out of the blue call to them to meet him in the bullpen to talk. Tony DiNozzo wasn't known for his serious talks, at least the Tony they knew. Sensing something was up when Abby, Ducky and Palmer crowded around his desk, Tim and Ziva looked up from their paperwork, finally reading the tension in the air.

Abby's "Tony, is something wrong?" was almost funny. Now she asked. Asked when things were finally going to stop being wrong.

He didn't make an answer and then he didn't have to as Gibbs shoved his way around Palmer, planted himself right in front of Tony as he made his way around his desk to stand in front of his gathered coworkers. Instead of remarking on Gibbs blocking move, he handed his boss an envelope, one Gibbs didn't take.

"I'm resigning from NCIS, effective today." And there was immeasurable relief as the words left him, like he could breathe again, had hope again. Like the day he had won the emancipation case, knew his father no longer could dictate and destroy his life and self worth. His eyes held Gibbs', watched in some satisfaction as the older man's jaw clenched. Then he turned to his coworkers, Ziva and Tim were now on their feet, joined the horseshoe around him. He read the shock on all of their faces, like this was coming out of left field for them, had no clue how unhappy he was. And that just proved what he had come to accept: they didn't know him, and how could they claim to care about him when they couldn't even see his misery, did nothing to ease it. It made his decision almost too easy.

Suddenly the stunned silence broke with everyone talking, throwing questions at him, denials, and pleads.

"What will you do next?" Ziva

"Tony, that's not a nice joke." Tim

"Anthony you shouldn't make this decision without more thought." Ducky

"But we're joining the basketball team, and you promised to take me to the gun range." Palmer

"Tony, take that back. Gibbs, rip up his resignation. It doesn't count. Please, Tony, don't leave!" Abby

The only silence came from Gibbs but his look spoke volumes: disappointment, anger, irritation, betrayal. He nearly shoulder checked Tony as he went by him, turned the corner and took the stairs two at a time to stalk angrily for the Director's office.

In the wake of Gibbs's abrupt departure, Tony gave one of his most charming and most unfelt smiles, "Well, with all the festivities over, guess it's time to say my goodbyes."

To his surprise, it was Palmer who navigated around Ducky and Tim to reach him first. He wasn't at all prepared to be caught up in a hard hug worthy of Abby by the younger man. But he returned the hug with heartfelt emotion. "Thanks for being a true friend, Palmer," he quietly recognized the support the junior ME had provided to him during his interim as team leader. To which Palmer replied, his voice choked, "I'll really miss you, Tony. You made me feel like part of the team for the first time."

Without another word, Palmer pulled away from Tony and left the bullpen, his head down and his pace quick.

Then Ziva was stepping forward and Tony felt himself tense. Out of everyone, she was the one that he knew would be the happiest that he was leaving. She had had zero respect for his status as lead agent, had disdain for his position as senior field agent and, if her constant judgmental and sneering comments about everything about him were any indication, she found him intolerable to be around. It would have been easier if he felt the same way about her, if her opinion of him hadn't mattered, but it had. So he braced himself to not flinch at whatever her last volley of criticism would be.

"I wish you well, Tony," Ziva levelly said as she extended her hand to him. Her eyes that held his didn't offer up a sneer but a hint of misgivings and something else someone might falsely label sadness. A bit stiffly, he shook her hand and then she made herself scare.

Seemingly reluctant to face the situation presenting itself, Tim shuffled forward, opened his mouth then shut it, opened it again and stammered, "Tony, you shouldn't…I know I said some things….but I never wanted you to leave. Not really. Still don't."

"But I do want to leave, Tim," Tony countered a bit coldly, before his eyes softened as they watched the kid who he had watched and helped grow into a man and a great agent. He held out his hand and Tim shook it. With awkwardness he hadn't quite lost in the five years they had known each other, Tim withdrew a few steps but didn't disappear, wanted to hang around Tony as long as he could, like a kid watching his big brother head off to college, trying to be strong until he was gone, couldn't see his weakness after he left.

Ducky was shaking his head as he approached, in denial or disapproval or both, Tony didn't know. "This shouldn't be happening, Anthony. This is your home, your family. You belong here with us. Whatever…whatever has hurt you, it can be made better."

And Tony knew Ducky meant it, that whatever (whoever) hurt him Ducky wanted to make it better. But the older man couldn't make this better, only Tony could by doing what he was doing. By accepting the truth of his relationships, that some expectations were doomed to failure. That sometimes the only way to improve your life was to leave it behind you. Tony offered a sincere, tender and yet sad small smile up to Ducky, "I can't stay, Ducky." When the ME opened his mouth to protest, Tony declared with quiet but unshakeable finality, "I don't want to."

The doctor flinched at the words, paled before he solemnly nodded his head in acceptance. "I bloody hate goodbyes," he choked out as he wrapped Tony into his arms, said by the man's ear, "Stay in touch, my boy. You're loved and we still need you in our lives."

To that Tony made no reply or promise, patted Ducky on the back and watched him leave the bullpen with sadness. The man had done right by him all these years, had patched up his body, was always sure to be gentle with his damaged psyche and ached to soothe his hurt feelings when he detected them. It was probably the closest Tony had ever been to having a grandfather…and now that was over. By his choosing.

Swallowing hard, he tried to will down the tears that wanted to gather in his eyes but finally looking at Abby didn't make that an easy task when she had had no restraint in that department. Tear tracks of black mascara streaked down both her cheeks and even still more tears fell. "Abby," he hoarsely called out her name, had dreaded this goodbye the most.

As if her name from his lips had broken her last restrain, Abby flew into his arms, clutched onto him with true desperation and sobbed. "Don't go, Tony. Please don't go. I'll do anything you want."

Tony closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder and rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down her back. His voice shook as he admitted, "Nothing you can do, Abby. Nothing I want you to do."

"No, no, I can make you want to stay. You have to stay. It's Gibbs right, he did something and now you're hurt. I'll make him apology and I'll make him mean it," she rambled, her hands coiled into the back of his shirt like she would never let him go.

But her words jolted Tony back to remembering that Gibbs might have pushed him over the edge of indecision but there had been other factors urging him toward this resignation. And Abby played a role in that, sweet, loving, Abby had hurt him too, maybe somewhat unintentionally but what did intentions matter when blood was spilled, when hurts were inflicted, when wounds were opened that might never heal. It had him reach behind him, pull her hands from their fierce grip on his shirt and then he stepped back, out of her hug, pulled his hands from her hands, broke their connection and maybe Abby's heart along with it, like she had broken his over the course of months when Gibbs was gone and his presence was never enough of a replacement.

"Bye Abby," Tony bade with sorrow and steel interwoven, taking a step back from her and hating that he felt guilty for the torment in her eyes at the betrayal of his rejection. That she stood there, arms wrapped around her waist, shaking her head as more tears fell, like she wasn't accepting any of this as truth.

A soft voice spoke from behind Tony. "Tony, I'll walk you to your car," Jen offered, had felt a protective desire swell in her as she had stood on the landing after Jethro had stormed out of her office, irate and hurting. From her vantage point, she watched Tony saying his goodbyes. It had her descending the stairs, determined to end the man's emotional torment as soon as possible. Now Tony turned dark, unreadable eyes onto her and he nodded, took a step toward her but then Gibbs flew back into the bullpen like an avenging angel.

Snapping his phone shut as he came to Tony's side, Jethro's eyes bore a hole into his senior field agent a few moments before Tony graced him with his eye contact. When Gibbs reached out to grab his arm and pull him aside, Tony yanked his arm out of his reach and his eyes dared the man to just try that patronizing propelling tactic again and see the results. Taking the warning DiNozzo's body language screamed, Gibbs jerked his head to Abby and Tim, ordering them away then he turned back to Jen. "Jen, can you give us a moment?"

Jen tensed, knew this conformation was the one she wanted to spare Tony the most. She met Tony's eyes in question but he nodded his head, silently telling her that he didn't need or want her protection from this. "I'll wait for you by the elevator," she said before walking that way.

Alone with his senior field agent, Jethro snarled, "The FBI, DiNozzo?! That the best you can do!"

"I've done worse for seven years," Tony zinged back, enjoyed the way Gibbs' eyes narrowed at the insult to his precious NCIS team.

"Are we through with our chat because I'm supposed to meet Fornell for lunch, discuss my rising star in the FBI," Tony taunted to cover up the stirring in his gut that he wouldn't walk away from this conversation with his soul intact.

He wasn't prepared for something to overshadow Gibbs' anger, for the grouse sometimes mean spirited man to shuffle on his feet, to look…a bit lost. But his tone was his usual gruff anger, "You need me to say it?"

"I don't need you to say anything," Tony managed to say evenly though there were a thousand things he had always wanted Gibbs to say to him: good job, couldn't do this without you, I'm proud of you, you're like the son I never had.

What Gibbs said next should have meant something, maybe would have if so many other words hadn't taken the meaning from them. "I don't want you to go." And even if Tony had weakened at that, Gibbs would have ruined it by his followup. Getting into Tony's face, Gibbs commanded, "You're not leaving, DiNozzo! I didn't give you permission so it's not happening! So sit down, finish your report and you can call Fornell later and tell him that you changed your mind."

And it was just like Gibbs to think his opinion mattered most, that he could "order" him to survive the plague and "command" him to not leave and it was the same thing as saying 'I value you, I need you, I couldn't bear it if I lost you.' When it wasn't. Not even a little. Like his father's sorry never took awy the bruises his father's fist had left in their wake. Like getting a new bike that was too big for him to even ride erased the betrayal of being forgotten in a hotel room for three days. Some actions wounded too deeply for simple gestures or words to wipe away.

Tony didn't waver in the face of Gibbs' command, stood his ground and coolly reminded Jethro Gibbs that he no longer controlled his world. "As of a half an hour ago, you stopped being my boss. What you want, what you want from me…it doesn't matter anymore. Not to me." And then Tony stepped around Gibbs, was afraid he would lash out if Jethro reached for him, touched him, that all his hurt, all his anger would burst out, that his planned departure of composure would shatter.

But Jethro didn't reach for Tony, left him walk away without another word, without trying to stop him, without even saying goodbye.

Jen had the elevator doors open as Tony approached, promptly hit the close doors button even before DiNozzo fully crossed the elevator's threshold. Then the doors shut, closed out the world but for the both of them. Worriedly, she watched DiNozzo stiffly stand by her side, his eyes closed, his breathing a little ragged and she almost reached out to him but pulled her hand back. "Are you alright?"

Drawing in an inhale, Tony opened his eyes but didn't face Jen, knew she could read him right then, heck, even Palmer could have with his emotional ways so crumbled. "I will be."

Jen nodded numbly, regretted that Tony's statement sank home that he couldn't be alright with her, with them, that his even ground, his happiness was decidedly not with NCIS any longer. They walked to his car in silence but when he turned to face her, she reached out, grabbed his hands in hers. "You're a wonderful kindhearted man, a brilliant agent and a valued friend. You leaving NCIS don't change any of that for me…or any of them."

Tony nodded, swallowed hard before he found the words. "Thanks for believing in me, for offering me Rota and another position today and for trusting me with the Frog case that meant so much to you, though I royally screwed it up and I'm truly sorry …"

Jen quickly denied his claim, giving his hands a squeeze. "Tony, I screwed it up, not you. I didn't protect you like I should have, not your cover or your life. You almost died because of my blind need for revenge and you got your heart broke in the process."

"Some would say it was only what I deserve…" Tony ruefully returned, thought of the woman he had dated and then heartlessly dumped before Jeanne came along and he understood the pain of a love lost.

But Jen shook her head and smiled sadly. "I wouldn't. If you ever need anything, call me Tony. You've got a stash of markers with me that I'm counting on you using up some time."

"'Kay but I'm warning you, I'll probably take you up on your offer. After all, I do tend to get in trouble and a call from the Director of NCIS on my good character might go a long way in smoothing ruffled feathers," Tony made light of her offer before bowing down and giving her a kiss on the cheek and then got in his car. Forced himself to not look in the rearview mirror as he drove away from the NCIS building for the last time.

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 _PRESENT_

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With an angry growl of frustration, Tony tossed his crutch across the room. Sitting up, he cursed himself for thinking he could do anything right. That he could end things gracefully. He never had before, not with his father, with the police departments he'd been in, with his last PD partner, Danny, with Paula, with Jeanne, with all the women he had dated. Why should his coworkers at NCIS fare any better?

' _And I thought I was glad to be rid of_ _them_ _?'_ he sardonically thought, wondered what the party had looked like on the day after he resigned, Gibbs probably even splurged for champagne.

A knock at his door broke up his perceived picture of that party, had him sighing. He sat there, unmoving, began putting down bets who dared to track him down there and how many more matches he would throw onto the embers of his past friendships when the knock came again and again. "Persistant bugger," he muttered before he raised his voice, called out, "Whoever's there, I gave at the office. Actually, I'm off the hook for five years I was that generous."

"Anthony, I would really like to talk to you, preferably face to face and not through a door," Ducky's voice filtered through said door and Tony felt his heart freeze up. Ducky was one of the few people he didn't lay any blame against for his hurt feelings and he desperately wanted to keep his pleasant goodbye and harmless words of reunion with the kindly doctor intact. Didn't want to cause harm where no harm was due.

"Ah, Ducky, I'm kinda entertaining right now. I'll call you tomorrow," Tony called through the door, not making a move to get off the couch.

He heard Ducky's sigh even through the door's width. "Tony, I know you're hurt and as much as you always pretended to seek female sympathies over any injuries, I know you never let anyone near you when you were less than 100%. Please let me in."

Ducky's insight into his vulnerabilities made Tony shift uncomfortably on the couch. "That was the old Tony's philosophy, not new Tony's," he still tried to deny.

Ducky's tone was affectionate and concerned as he just said his name. "Anthony."

Knowing that Ducky wasn't buying his bull or leaving, Tony bade, "It's not locked." He straightened up on the couch to not show signs of weakness as the door opened to reveal Ducky bearing two brown grocery bags.

His lips thinning in worried, displeasure at the sight of Tony's leg brace, the bruise marks on the younger man's throat and split lip, Ducky sighed, "Ah, Anthony, you always get the brunt of things don't you." Then before Tony could deny or agree, Ducky bustled into the room, talked even as he disappeared into the kitchen. "I wasn't sure what you would be hungry for or what your stomach or inflamed esophagus could tolerate so I brought an assortment of dinner selections for tonight and breakfast and lunch sampling for tomorrow."

Tony could hear the refrigerator door opening, the clank of glasses and plastic containers being placed on the plastic shelves, then dishes rattling. Then Ducky reappeared in the living room, was taking off his coat like he intended to stay awhile. "I'll tell you what I brought and then I'll heat them up for you so you don't have to move. Did you tell the hospital what anti-inflammatory's made you ill. If they gave you the wrong kind, I can…"

"Ducky, it's fine. The meds are fine, I'm fine. Whatever food you brought is great…if not necessary.." Tony insisted, was about to tell the ME he could leave, that he didn't need to worry about him when the doctor sank into the seat across from him and announced, "I'm worried about you, my boy."

Purposefully misinterpreting Ducky's statement, Tony said, "No need to worry. They said I'll be back in action in a few weeks. You of all people know I'm a quick healer."

"You refuse to take care of yourself and you're a good liar, that is not the same as being a quick healer, Anthony," Ducky accused in an anger sharpened tone, not willing to pull the punches when the young man he cared about was obviously hurting himself and thinking no one noticed.

"Wow, not playing the PC doctor tonight. Unexpected move, though it's easier without an audience I suppose. Would set a bad example for Palmer, this stern tone and sadly lacking bedside manner," Tony taunted, trying to cover up his inability to figure out how to detangle himself from Ducky's prickly mood without bloodshed.

Tony's comeback had Ducky surging from his chair, pointing a finger at Tony, "Do not make light of my concern for you! You don't know the nights I toss and turn and think that maybe you're hurt or worse and I don't even know it, none of us do. That we're not there to help you."

"I don't need your help. Thought I made that clear," Tony bit out, hated that Ducky still thought of him as this little boy needing his protection, needing _Gibbs'_ protection.

Instead of anger, Ducky's demeanor switched to sorrow and compassion, "This isn't about your ability to take care of yourself, it's about our need…my need to take care of you if you're hurt. To get a phone call once in a while and hear your voice so I know you're Ok. Tony, you've been part of my life…my family for seven years. I don't take those ties lightly, have learned over the years how swiftly my loved ones can be taken away from me by war, by illness…by breaks that won't heal even with time. I meant what I said when you left, that I still needed you, wanted you in my life. And that's more true now than it was then. Now that I've felt the hole you've left with your absence."

But Tony was shaking his head. "I can't, Ducky. It's all or nothing. There is no middle ground. I cut my ties and if this case hadn't forced me back here…"

Ducky paled at the unspoken conclusion, said it for Tony. "You would have never returned, contacted any of us."

Tony forced himself to not look away from Ducky's hurt expression, to own it was his fault. "And when I leave tomorrow, I won't be coming back. Fornell said the FBI will help me get out of my lease and move anything I want to take along."

The words seemed to steal the breath from Ducky, had the older man sinking back into the chair, eyes haunted, showed that he had clung to hope that Tony would change his mind, come back to them, at least agree to stay in touch with them going forward. But none of that was going to happen. Not if he couldn't get through to the hurt man in front of him. But then again, maybe that wasn't his place, maybe he was never going to be the one to ensure this precious young man wasn't irrevocably lost to them. Sadly, he didn't have much faith in the one man that had a slim chance of making that miracle happen.

Holding Tony's eyes, reading the hurt and anger and the sorrow in them, Ducky broke his own rule of composure, did it for the man in front of him that was worth the risk. "I don't speak my emotions often, wasn't raised to be tempered like that. Maybe better than someone else we know but…..I love you, Tony, like a nephew or a grandson or….some young man that listened to all my stories and looked at me like I wasn't just some relic with only the past exploits of adventure to keep me interesting." He raised his hand when Tony seemed ready to interrupt. "And as much as I want you back, would do anything to keep you in my life…I understand pain, I know that sometimes the only way through it is to leave the people who hurt you…who even loved you behind. And if that's what you need to do, I'll respect that, Anthony. But I want you to know that I'll always be there for you if you want to let me back in, even if it's only a call every year or so, I'd take it."

"Ducky, I…" But Tony couldn't make promises, wouldn't make promises he might not keep. He had had a lifetime of that and he wouldn't return Ducky's steadfast friendship with that deceit. So he fell silent, watched as Ducky registered with sadness his decision. Then the doctor stood up, waited a few beats in silence before he left him alone. Gave him what he supposedly wanted…and Tony wished that it felt like a victory instead of a crushing defeat.

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Gibbs sat on the bottom steps of his basement, stared at the spot where a boat frame should be and wasn't. He had been making good progress on his last one, thought his new technique might be better than the tried and true one he had used the past couple of years. But it had all come to naught, had ended in splintered wood and dented nails and wreckage at his own hands….six months ago, the day Tony gave his resignation, the night Jethro went to Tony's apartment.

Jethro had been willing and ready to eat crow, to even beg the kid to reconsider quitting…only to find that Tony wasn't there, that Tony's clothing were gone, that his cell phone was discarded on the table and the picture usually in a place of honor on the mantel was face down on the coffee table. With a sinking feeling, Jethro had picked up the picture, still drew in a sharp breath as his own image stared up at him, happy, unaware how short that happiness would last.

But it wasn't just him in the picture, it was the people Tony loved best: Abby, Ducky, Tim, Ziva, Palmer. And Tony had left without the picture, maybe took it off the mantle and considered taking it with him…but Jethro wasn't one for fanciful notions. Knew it was more likely that Tony had dethroned the picture from a place of honor, had contemplated throwing it in the trash, had instead just left it behind…like he had everyone in that picture, even a big part of himself.

Rage had welled up and Jethro threw the picture, felt satisfied and yet sick at the sound of the glass shattering. In sounded like what was happening inside him. Shattering, no way to make repairs, broken forever. Like when he lost Shannon and Kelly. Like when Tony said those words that day, handed him that letter, when he saw the sympathy in Jen's eyes as she told him that she had accepted Tony's resignation, that his SFA was going to the FBI.

The acid of betrayal burned through his gut and he was dialing Fornell's number as he stormed out of Jen's office and made his way down the stairs. Fornell barely had his "hello" out before Jethro ranted, "I'm not going to ever forgive you for this Tobias!"

Tobias's long suffering sigh came through the phone connection and he drawled, "Guess DiNozzo turned in his resignation."

"Yeah, yeah he did and to learn he's flipping to the FBI?! That you got him there!"

Instantly Tobias' hackles got raised at Jethro's slam to DiNozzo. "His skills got him into the FBI. I just put in a good word for him."

There was murder in the quiet accusation. "Without giving me a heads up."

"Was the kid's business, not yours," Fornell coolly returned.

Storming into an empty interrogation room and slamming the door shut, Jethro seethed, "That's bull! That kid…my team members are my business!"

To which Fornell drily retorted, "Last time I checked this was a democracy and people could make their own decisions about their lives, Jethro."

"That's how you're justifying this!?" Gibbs shouted, didn't care if his voice did carry from the interrogation room.

But where Gibbs' rage was white hot, Fornell's anger came back as a cold blast of condemnation. "No, how I justify it is…you stopped deserving that kid's loyalty, Jethro. And be as pissed as you like but what I did I did because I like the kid. Didn't need a shrink to tell me he was miserable. And, for as hard as his mental walls are, they could withstand only so much of your criticism and anger and disrespect before all of it pierced through and did irreparable harm." Fornell heard Jethro's sharp intake of breath, knew he had landed wounding blows of his own but he couldn't take them back, knew he shouldn't. With more compassion than he thought he would be capable of during this conversation, he entreated, "If you care about that kid the way I think that you do….let him go, Jethro. Do it for his best interest."

"Even if it kills me?" And he had never heard Jethro Gibbs sounding so broken.

Tobias suddenly felt sorry for his friend, that this was blindsiding him, wounding him to the core. "I don't know what to say, Jethro. Things have cut too deep for DiNozzo to simply slap a band-aid on this."

But then the Gibbs that Fornell knew was back, threatened, "I see you again, Tobias, I will deck you."

Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, Jethro stalked back to the bullpen, effectively deep sixed all of Fornell's advice the following minutes, tried to strong arm Tony into rescinding his resignation, of leaving him. But that blew up in his face, like an IED.

Knew that particular skirmish was lost with Tony's declaration of "What you want, what you want from me…it doesn't matter anymore. Not to me." And when the kid stepped away from him, Jethro didn't trust himself to move, to speak. Felt like he was barely holding himself together, couldn't watch Tony walk away. To know in his heart of hearts that it was his fault and he couldn't fix it. That the kid he loved like a son hated him…and it wasn't all unjustified. Afterall, he had three ex-wives and countless criminals who could testified to his bastard status but he had never wanted Tony to be among that count, to do something so bad that Tony couldn't forgive him.

And the kicker was, Jethro didn't know what the last straw for Tony had been, knew there had been words exchanged at the dock but that was weeks ago and surely he had said worse to DiNozzo over the years. A lot worse. And maybe that was a telling piece of the puzzle. Worse things said, yes, but the greater sin was the things he never said. 'I don't want you to go' that was a feeble replacement for all the sentiment unspoken, that he was too scared…too proud, too cruel to dare speak aloud.

So in the end, Fornell's advice seemed the best: retreat, to let Tony go.

But that was supposed to only be for that single skirmish, not his battle plan for the war. His next offensive was supposed to be at Tony's apartment that night and then the next day and the day after that until Tony saw reason.

Tony out maneuvered him though. The younger man was gone before he ever got in his car to come to his apartment. Had cut ties like a master spy. Left his cell phone behind and was protected under the FBI privacy laws before he could ask Abby the next day to check the FBI's general database for Tony's new contact number. He was five seconds away from ordering Abby to hack the database when McGee entered the lab, presented Gibb's cellphone to him, saying it was ringing and ringing.

For about five seconds, Jethro had the hope that it was DiNozzo, regretting his decision. Instead it was Fornell's number and there was one voice mail message. "Let him go, Jethro. He didn't leave his phone behind because he didn't like his data plan. For once in your life, think about someone else's feelings. This is painful enough for him, don't hurt him more trying to hang onto him. He's gone, Jethro. He doesn't want to talk to you…to any of you. Have enough respect for him to honor that."

The phone nearly cracked under the pressure of Jethro's grip and his voice was hoarse even as he ordered Abby, "Get out of the database."

"What? No. I can't go through the normal channels but he'll have to enter his contact number with the FBI and I can do a teeny tiny bit of hacking and get it in like…five minutes."

Slamming the phone down on the counter, Gibbs thundered, "I said no, Abs!" causing the goth to flinch back in shock. "Don't search for his number. If he wants us to have it, he'll call us."

In a doubtful voice, Abby asked, "But what if he doesn't Gibbs. What if he doesn't call?"

With more conviction than he felt, Gibbs snapped, "He will call."

"You never did when you were in Mexico," Abby quietly rejoined, a tinge of accusation there that she had never voiced before but had lurked in her heart.

Gibbs had had no come back for that, had left Abby's lab as turbulently as he had entered it. In all the ways he had wanted DiNozzo to be like him, this was the last trait of his that he wanted the younger man to copycat. But as it sometimes was, the student turned into the master because he had answered Ziva's phone call after four months, had come back to NCIS in four and half months. It had gone past six months before Tony made contact with them….and even that was coincidently, wasn't on purpose.

' _And if I let him leave again, when will I see him again, when will he ever talk to me again? A year? Two? Never?'_ That dark predication had him foregoing the glass and drinking straight from the bourbon bottle. So he wasn't that sober when Ducky called him, ominously began the conversation with. "Jethro, he's not coming back. He's getting out of his apartment lease and I can't even get a cell phone number out of him. I told him that I'm worried about him…even that I love him like a grandson or nephew or a…"

"But he's still leaving…" Jethro surmised bitterly. "Maybe he's better off without us Duck. Without me."

That stunned Mallord into silence for a good minute before he despondently said, "If you really believe that he's happier without us, that we should let him go…."

"Tobias thinks we should."

"But I'm asking you, Jethro. Do we only cause him pain? Is that all we…you have to offer him yet?" and Ducky was using his gentlest tone on a man who usually put a bear's rancor to the competition.

Jethro's voice was timorous when he finally replied. "What I'm offering, Tony doesn't want."

With wisdom bore of heartbroken and desperation, Mallord offered the advice only Jethro could put into action for DiNozzo. "Then find out what he will accept from you, and give him that."

"What if it's not enough?" and there was raw vulnerability in his friend's voice that the doctor had never heard before.

Ducky wished he could lessen his friend's fear but couldn't, instead he let it join his own. "Then you have to say goodbye to him, Jethro. You have to say goodbye."

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TBC

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Thanks to all of you who were so awesome to drop me a review! And thanks for those favoriting this story! And a shout out to all of you just reading along at home.

Have a great day and, those in the USA, Happy Thanksgiving!

Cheryl


	8. Chapter 8: The Better Man

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Sorry for being absent for the past two months! First it was the busyness of the holidays and then it was uncertainty how to continue this story. But I think I'm back on track with my plot. Thanks for being patient and sending me encouraging emails and reviews!

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Chapter 8: The Better Man

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Tobias stood outside DiNozzo's apartment door a moment. He was still unsure of what he intended to say to the kid. Part of him wanted to hand Tony a plane ticket and drive him to the airport right then and there..and another part of him knew that running away hadn't solved much of DiNozzo's pain, that it had little hope of working this time. Like it or not, sometimes you had to go through more pain before things got better, before you could face the people that hurt you the most.

Vividly Tobias remembered the last time he had come to Tony's apartment, had been afraid of what he would find after his cop buddy had called and said the address had come up on a 911 call. Gibbs had always claimed Tony was a trouble magnet and Tobias was starting to believe it. Didn't want to contemplate having to call Gibbs in Mexico and tell his friend something had happened to the kid the cold hearted bastard had abandoned.

Lucky for them all, Tony might attract trouble but he never went down without a heck of a fight.

****Eight Months Ago********

Tony was bone tired as he walked down the hallway to his apartment, the kind of tired not of satisfaction or physical exhaustion but mental overload. He hadn't expected that he would have to _earn and demand_ Ziva and McGee's allegiance and respect as a competent agent and leader, thought he already had both. Had somehow assumed that his years with them under Gibbs' harsh tutelage had forged a tight bond between them, you know, common enemy and all that. But he seemed wrong on both accounts and it hurt. Worse than he would ever let show or ever admit, even to himself.

And today had been full of bickering, snide remarks, and downright refusals to follow his orders by his subordinates, so much so that their suspect nearly slipped through their net because of their discord. To add to the delights of the day, Abby had plastered pictures of Gibbs on every surface she had available in her lab, like a living breathing shrine to the man she wished was there giving her Caf Paw instead of him. Even Ducky had been in a mood. The ME had chewed out Palmer for some small goof up and proceeded to tell Tony had he'd get his final report on the autopsy when it was "bloody" done and not a moment sooner, no matter how long Tony "sulked" in his office. Wording that Tony was sure he wouldn't have dared use with Gibbs.

So all Tony wanted to do was crawl into his apartment, turn off his cell phone and sink down into the couch to watch a basketball game on pay per view. He unlocked his apartment door and shuffled inside, was reaching for the light switch when something cold and metal slipped around his throat and was pulled taut, cutting off his breathing and causing him to stumble backwards to slam into his assailant's chest.

"Hey, Officer DiNozzo, thought I'd come by and thank you for my vacation in the Pittsburgh pen," a male voice snarled by his ear even as the metal was pulled tighter, bit more brutally into his neck.

Gagging, Tony wrapped his hands around the motorcycle chain coiled around his throat, tried to lever it away from his neck so he could take in some air. But his assailant only yanked the chain more viciously into his flesh. "You got nice digs here, pig. Guess now as a federal agent you're rolling in the dough. How nice for you," the man said, clearly not sincere in his good tidings for Tony's up in pay since his days as a cop in Pittsburgh.

Unable to breathe, let alone shoot back a snarky retort, Tony let the man's disparaging comment go unchallenged, focused his energy on, let's see…not dying. Sacrificing his right handed grip on the chain, he plowed his elbow into the convict's gut, would have enjoyed the man's grunt of pain if he wasn't so close to losing consciousness that sounds were starting to get muffled along with his vision whiting out. He followed up the elbow action by sending his fist back into the man's nose, which finally earned him some slack on the chain.

Knowing it might be his last chance to survive, Tony didn't waste time trying some fancy moves he had learned at either the police academy or NCIS, instead he dug deep and remembered school yard tactics for dealing with bullies. So he snapped his head back into the man's forehead then dropped down to his knees, escaping under the chain's tension. He rolled right even as he swept his right leg out, taking the convict's legs out from under him to send the man toppling to the floor.

Though Tony's mind was screaming at him to press his advantage, to go on the offensive now that the man was on his even playing field of the carpet, Tony's body wasn't up for the move. Instead Tony was gasping for air, trying to blink away the spots still dancing in his vision from the suffocation. And his limbs were trembling and weak, like any punch he might think to initiate would peter out mid throw. So he did the unmanly thing and crawled away, seemingly hacking up a lung as he went, cursing the plague for diminishing his lung's tolerance for air depletion.

Sensing his assailant's approach, Tony abandoned his crawl and rolled onto his back, in time to catch the chain in his hands and hold it above his throat. With the light splintering in the doorway from the hall, Tony got his first good look at his night time visitor. Funny thing was…he didn't remember the guy. Here he was ready to kill him for apparently arresting him in Pittsburgh…and the man hadn't even made enough of an impression on Tony to be memorable. But still, Tony doubted he would have forgotten a man with a ragged cut from his forehead down to his cheek and a dead eye.

"Looks like you got a facial in prison," Tony snarked, wasn't expecting the raw catch in his voice caused by the garroting. But it made his dig sound quite menacing, more bad guy than righteous cop.

The convict let loose a string of expletives that Tony thought only the B movie bad guys strung together even as he used his weight to counter Tony's hold on the chain, causing the metal to dip down again, closer to Tony's throat.

Unwilling to lose his white knuckled grip on the chain, Tony didn't bother trying to throw a punch, instead he kneed the man in the groin. Tony's breath went out as the man fall on top of him in agony. Taking advantage of the man's pain and weakened grip on the chain, Tony rolled the man off him even as he pulled the chain from the man's lax grip. Not trusting the man to be incapacitated long, Tony forced himself to his knees then delivered a right cross to the man's jaw. The punch cost Tony his balance, had him toppling forward into a graceless sprawl across the convict's chest. But the con didn't protest the compromising position….probably since he was out cold.

Tony lost some time after that, maybe took an undignified nap on his comfy new convict rug, woke up with a uniformed officer staring down at him. Then it was interrogation time, he produced his NCIS credentials, the cops escorted an awake but slightly groggy ex-convict away. And Tony agreed to come to the police station in the morning to sign the official statement about the break-in and assault. He found it almost sad that after learning the convict's name from his driver's license Tony still didn't remember him.

It was kind of a sick joke…that he had garnered enough hatred in the man to instigate murder…and the poor guy was just another nobody criminal to Tony, not worth Tony's time or mental energies to remember. Ironically, Tony almost felt guilty for not remembering the guy. He had sent someone to prison, they apparently had not made friends there if his dead eye and scar were a giveaway and he blamed Tony for his bad turn. And Tony couldn't have picked the guy out of a line up. Gone and forgotten like he didn't matter.

Tony could almost relate. Thought the same could be said of him in the past cities he had lived. That his coworkers might not remember his name or face…only the cons would, their hatred ensuring he wasn't forgotten. Wondered if Gibbs had forgotten all about him too, sitting on the beach in Mexico, didn't answer his calls because he couldn't come up with a DiNozzo in his mental rolodex of his acquaintances.

That grim thought was interrupted by a new visitor into the crime scene that was his apartment: FBI Agent Tobias Fornell. It seemed surreal that the man was there, like he had taken a wrong turn getting to the Hoover building…at 2 in the morning. Coming to a stand from his slouch in his kitchen chair, Tony asked, his voice seemingly growing more hoarse than it had before, "Fornell, why are you here? Don't tell me that guy was on the FBI's most wanted list?" his tone incredulous because he couldn't envision his night visitor had the chomps to make that prestige bad guy list but then again, there was little other explanation for Fornell's presence.

Agent Fornell didn't answer him right away, eyed him up a good thirty seconds first. "Nope. Not here for him." Then he slipped by Tony, pulled out a kitchen chair and took a seat. Feeling like another interrogation was about to commence, Tony reclaimed his seat, tried not to fidget in his chair as he waited for Fornell to get to the reason for his late night visit. So wasn't expecting the FBI agent's first question.

"You alright?" Fornell asked, not bothering to hide his concern. Truth was, the kid looked done in, and it wasn't just about the red welts on his neck and the friction burns on his hands.

"What?" Tony croaked before he recovered his composure. "Oh yeah, just fine."

Fornell nodded like he believed him but his words said otherwise. "Yeah, a good garroting clears the mind."

Before Tony could do more than frown at Fornell's flippancy, the agent was looking around his apartment for someone that apparently was missing among the milling police officers. "Where's your team?"

"My team?" Tony asked like the question made no sense before the lightbulb kicked on. "Oh, yeah, this wasn't about an NCIS case."

That statement earned him a not so patience look from Fornell. "Yeah, I'm aware. Still doesn't answer my question."

Tony's face creased in more confusion. "Why would they be here then?"

Tony didn't like it when Fornell's expression changed from exasperation to something akin to pity. "Because you were just attacked, DiNutso."

Shrugging, Tony grimaced in pain as the welts in his neck protested the action. "It's not NCIS related so it's not any of their business."

Fornell held Tony's eyes, wanted to read the kid's reaction to his next words. "Do you want me to call Gibbs?"

At the suggestion, Tony surged out of his chair, glared down at Fornell. "Is that why you're here? Are you Gibbs' watch dog, making sure I don't screw things up?"

Instead of reacting to Tony's outburst, Fornell leaned back in his chair, simply watched Tony in silence.

It was answer enough for Tony and his face colored with shame at his false accusation. "You're not here at Gibbs' request, are you? He doesn't care enough to ask you to play nursemaid on me." Then he shifted on his feet. "So that goes back to my original question…why are you here then?"

For a moment, Tobias thought about lying to the kid, saying that Gibbs did care about him, told him to watch out for him and his team in his absence. But the kid deserved better than some sugary tale. "I have some contacts on the force, they told me your address came up on a 911 call."

Tony's eyes narrowed as if he was sweating out a suspect. "And why would they call you about me?"

"I told them to," Fornell matter of factly replied.

A tinge of alarm went down Tony's spine. "Am I under investigation again because that whole, I murdered people and bit into them, was cleared up a while ago."

"No investigation," Tobias answered, not forthcoming with more.

"No investigation…" Tony slowly repeated. "So why the surveillance?"

It was Tobias' turn to shrug. "Thought someone should have your back." Didn't know if the kid would appreciate his concern or not but it didn't change the fact he had it. Had heard of the abrupt way Gibbs had made his exit from NCIS and town and how the kid had been dumped in to replace him and knew none of it would be easy on DiNozzo, on anybody. So yeah, he had decided to go a little protective, didn't give NCIS much credit in protecting their own, that had been more of a Gibbs' trait not an agency one. So with Gibbs gone, that seemed like it left Gibbs' team high and dry and that might be ok with Gibbs but it strangely hadn't been with Tobias, who had worked with the NCIS team long enough to come to admire and like them. Tony especially.

"Have my back," Tony again parroted Fornell's words back at him. "So let me get this straight, you have the police flag my address that if anything hinky goes on, you get a call. And tonight, you got a call…and came here…at 2, wait, make that 3am?"

"Call me old fashion but I still think an attempt on your life is traumatizing. You going to the hospital to get checked out, right?" nodding his chin at Tony's disclored neck.

Self-consciously, Tony rubbed his neck, only to wince in pain and swallow down a yelp. "No need," he croaked out.

"I disagree. Come on, I'll give you a ride to the ER," Fornell stated as he stood up, grabbed onto Tony's elbow and began steering him to the door.

"Wait, I didn't agree to this," Tony protested, a little too off his game to disentangle Fornell's hold but he did manage to bring them to a stop in the middle of his living room..

Tobias faced off with DiNozzo, but instead of unleashing anger he did the unexpected again. He gentled his voice instead of raising it. "Tony, I came here to make sure you were Ok. I'm not leaving with the job half done. We go, get you checked out and then maybe both of us can catch a little sleep before work tomorrow."

Caught off guard by Tobias' loyalty, Tony stammered, "You don't have to…go to the ER with me. I'll go…you head home. I appreciate you making the house call and all…."

"Nice try, DiNutso," Fornell said with a smirk as he again tugged on Tony's arm, lead them to the door. "Over the years Gibbs and Ducky have regaled me with tales of how poorly you take care of yourself, that you have been known to stretch the truth when it comes to how badly you feel. So I think I'll park myself in the waiting room while you be a good patient." Tony opened his mouth to protest when Fornell added another possible outcome to the mix, "Who knows, maybe you'll get lucky and your doctor will be a hot woman."

At that suggestion, Tony smiled. "Let's make that a prerequisite" he announced as he willingly succumbed to Tobias's manhandling.

Tobias chuckled at the kid's comeback, thought for the first time that he and Gibbs might agree on DiNozzo. The kid just might be worth every grey hair he earned them both.

***** PRESENT *******

Encouraged by his faith in DiNozzo to have the strength to come through anything, tattered and battered but still smirking somehow, Fornell rang DiNozzo's doorbell and patiently waited for his agent to make an appearance. He made up his mind that the kid was strong enough to deal with the fallout of the enforced reunion with his old teammates, didn't need an escape hatch from Fornell but what Tony probably did need was for someone to put things into perceptive, to see Tony's pain and not let the kid hide it away like a dirty little secret.

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Tony slept like crap, partly due to his injuries and partly due to his mind just wouldn't click off. Course he was sleeping like the dead when his doorbell rang, dragged himself sluggishly back to the land of the living. Flinging the covers back but not rising, he grumbled, "What is this, the Christmas Carol? Three visitors will make my life worse than it already is?!" When the doorbell insistently sounded again, he rolled out of bed and promptly cried out in pain, having forgotten that his knee was screwed up and apparently decided that him putting any weight on that leg would have consequences.

Having experience with his knee's fits over the years since the injury, Tony managed to keep himself from face planting on the carpet, did a fall, stumble, catch himself on the nightstand act to remain upright. Then he was begrudgingly putting on the leg brace, donning a robe and using the crutches to lumber out to the living room and yank open the door. "Christmas present or future?" he asked of his visitor.

"You sure Epps is the one with the concussion and not you?" Fornell asked upon Tony's bizarre opening question, then he was skirting by Tony into the apartment. "I brought your car," he announced, holding up a keyring. But when Tony turned and made to grab for the keys, Tobias pulled the keys back from the younger man's reach, instead crossed over to the kitchen and sat them on the table. An action he hoped conveyed to DiNozzo his silent order that the injured man NOT get behind the wheel of the car. Knew his message had hit home when he turned back around and was met with a scowling Tony.

"So you look like crap," Tobias assessed even as he started looking through cupboards, was happy to find some coffee and two cups. Then he set to the task of making said coffee as he waited for his agent to talk.

"Crap is a relative term. In my case, that means I'm dashingly good looking even if I'm disheveled," Tony glibly replied, and, since he was resigned to being a spectator in his own kitchen, he claimed a seat in the kitchen chair and watched Fornell work.

Fornell's comeback was a non-committal "Un hmm," as he took off his coat. Then, trusting the coffee maker to do its task without his supervision, he too claimed a chair at the table, sat across from his agent and felt his worry grow instead of recede. The kid really didn't look dashing, and disheveled didn't come close to describing the dark lines under the younger man's eyes, paleness of his skin, bruising on his neck and face, and the dullness in his gaze that was usually razor sharp.

"So who was your other visitor?" Tobias quietly asked, prayed it wasn't Gibbs because he didn't even want to imagine how that scene would have played out with just the two of them, no spectators…or referees.

"Ducky," Tony admitted with a sigh as he leaned back heavily in his chair, eyes holding Tobias'.

Tobias's brow creased, didn't think the good doctor would have done anything to bring Tony pain. "Did he say something to upset you?" he tightly asked, a tone of retribution for Mallard if Tony answered yes was lurking. What Tobias didn't count on was Tony being insightful enough to recognize it, mostly because DiNozzo usually didn't think anyone would or should want to protect him from harm.

"Upset me?" Tony scoffed, right side of his lips turning up in a bitter sweet smile. "Don't know…someone saying they love you like a nephew or grandson, telling you that they missed you, that they want you to call them sometime…should that _be_ upsetting?"

Tobias's tension melted away at Tony's description of Mallard's visit, felt an instant surge of warmth for the NCIS's ME. "Even someone's good intentions for you can hurt."

Tony's eyebrows rose at Tobias's perceptiveness. "Haven't had a lot of that…good intentions sent my way."

"You sure?" Tobias gently prodded, could name five off the top of his head and just because some of them, most of them had ended badly…didn't mean the start hadn't been about looking out for the younger man before him.

Tony opened his mouth then shut it…didn't know how to take Tobias's statement. Then the coffee was ready and Tobias got up to retrieve it, returned with the coffee. Sat the mug in front of him and his sugar bowl….because somewhere along the line the FBI senior agent had remembered how he liked his coffee. It was a nothing thing…except it wasn't. Not to Tony.

He looked up at Tobias as the man reclaimed his seat with a little smile. "Thanks," was all he said but it was for so much more than the delivery of a cup of coffee.

Recognizing the intensity in DiNozzo's look but not quite sure of its meaning, Tobias simply nodded. Let them sit there in companionable silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "Epps is getting released today." Then before any ideas could formulate in the younger agent's head, Tobias pointed a finger at Tony, "That does not mean you two are back on duty. He's going to be out on medical leave for a month and so are you."

"For this?" Tony protested, disparagingly flinging his hand toward his knee. "Week ..two tops and then it'll be good as new. I can work solo until Don's up to speed."

"Yeah but you're not going to," Tobias evenly put down Tony's suggestion.

Tony felt panic rising at the very idea of being idle for four weeks, of having no job to go to, no criminal to chase, no fugitive-on-the-run clues to occupy his mind. "I had the _plague_ and barely took a month off…" he protested.

"And no one was happy about that," Fornell replied, keenly remembered Gibbs ranting and raving about how the kid just wouldn't let himself recuperate like a sane person. Was off at the gym or out at bars …or insisting on coming back to work instead of being at home and healing up from a stone age disease that nearly…maybe even should have killed him. At the time Tobias had admired the kid…now, with Tony his responsibility, he understood the heartache and fear Tony's carelessness about his health racked in his gut. Knew he couldn't take the track Gibbs had in those same instances: gruff orders, raised voice…and giving into Tony because Jethro saw the desperation in the kid's eyes to be back on the job, to have purpose again….to not be forgotten or replaced.

Tony almost started when Tobias reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. His eyes shot up to the other man's in surprise.

"Hey, we're just talking about you getting healed up. Besides, you and Epps are a team, a good one. I'm not gonna screw that up…or suffer anyone else to partner up with you while Epps is out." To Tobias' satisfaction, that last bit got a smirk from Tony. He gave the forearm in his grip a squeeze. "No one's asking you to be superman…"

"Six Million Dollar Man," Tony corrected.

Tobias chuckled. "Right, Steve Trevor." But then his expression turned serious. "You're not working off a debt, Tony, or still earning anyone's respect. You already won that hands down. Truth is, I'm terrified what Epps would do to me if I _don't_ make you take sick leave. He's pretty protective of you."

That stunned Tony enough for him to stammer, "He barely knows me…doesn't _really_ know me…"

Giving Tony's arm a pat Tobias pulled his hand back, smirked as he took a generous swallow of coffee. "He's a good judge of character and a quick study. And he knows you well enough that he called me this morning…made me promise to sideline you until you were 100% healed, no matter the whining, the grumbling, the cajoling you rolled out to try and change my mind. I think his exact words were, "Fornell, he's going to try everything in the book to get back on duty, you shut him down cold or …" There Fornell smirked, "Well, let's say he heard an embarrassing tale from one of my ex-partners about me and a sewer hole that he threatened to spread around the DC office if I didn't adhere to his command. Pretty brazen act born from a concern over someone you think he shouldn't be attached to."

Tony undertoned, "I didn't say he shouldn't…more like improbable that he could…."

"Sounds like you're wrong on both accounts," Tobias cut in with a knowing smile. But he didn't press the issue, instead let silence fall between them as his eyes scanned the apartment. "Except for the dust, I'd still think you lived here. Travel light when you left town?"

"What can I say, I'm not as materialist as people think I am," Tony countered with a smile that wasn't genuine.

Tobias nodded sagely but in his head he amended ' _not as materialist as you trick people into thinking you are'_. Because he had come to understand what Tony showed the world was a role, carefully crafted to shield the man's real essence from view. It didn't take a peek at the kid's personnel jacket for Tobias to know someone had taught Tony that to be an open book was just asking to be hurt, to show weakness was to invite in domination, to want to garner other people's good opinion of him was to be perpetually disappointed. And as much as Tobias knew Anthony Dinozzo Sr had been the author of those life lessons….Jethro Gibbs had reinforced too many of them unknowingly.

Not for the first time, he cursed Jethro for his brutal egoistical way of maneuvering the people in his life so they orbited him just to suit himself. Preened in the daddy role with Abby, played favorites with Ziva, mentor with McGee, gruff comrade with Mallard and let Tony close only to push him away when it sensed the younger man was starting to depend on his affection. Tobias had only been too glad to be a means to get Tony away from that mental/emotional rollercoaster.

Except by the looks of DiNozzo, that ride was far from over. Maybe would never be over…just like the hurts Tony's father had inflected on him would never heal. That no matter how old a person became…they still sought love where the world insisted it should always be found: with family, with those you loved. Heck, if DiNozzo Sr rapped on the door right now, Tony would probably invite him in, stammer around like the kid he once was trying to find that magic word, that magic action to make him someone his father could love. To demean himself to get something not worth a plug nickel in Tobias' eyes. But that was human nature…was Tony's nature, whether Tobias liked it or Tony liked it, it didn't change things.

And just like with DiNozzo Sr, some part of Tony still wanted Gibbs' affection, wanted Gibbs to confess once and for all that he loved the kid like his own. Even if it didn't change a thing, if it didn't make Gibbs one percent less belligerent, as likely to maim with words and actions as before, if it didn't heal any of Tony's soul, dissolve any of the layers of self doubt and self hatred the kid carted around. It didn't smother the need for one SOB NCIS senior agent's approval of who Tony was, underneath the facades, the jokes, the smiles and the haunted eyes that sometimes peeked through when Tony thought no one was watching him.

But more than Gibbs' approval, Tony needed to be the good guy in his own story. To not run on hate and regrets and resentments. To be better than that…better than the fathers he had been given in this life. To forgive, to accept that his father and Gibbs would not change but that he could. He could break the chain, had once before when he was emancipated at 14 from his father, had done it again when he had resigned from NCIS. Yet still chains bound him to these men, chains that tore into his soul the harder he struggled to escape their hold, their power over him.

"You doing mental inventory or figuring out how many boxes are needed for all my paltry possessions?" Tony asked, breaking into Tobias' thoughts.

Turning his eyes back to his FBI agent, he shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with where he was about to take this conversation. "It's not better, having to see them again."

Tony snorted in derision. "Better? Why would it be better? Least last time I left on my terms, this time…."

"People are telling you how much you mean to them," Tobias quietly said, knew real emotions were something DiNozzo strove to not come across.

Dropping his look to a stain on the table, Tony bitterly pointed out, "It's easy to lay on the 'I _'m going to miss you'_ s when you know someone's going and not coming back. That they won't be your problem anymore." Even his own dad had pulled a performance worthy of an Oscar the day Tony came and collected his things from their house with his attorney and a police officer standing there as an audience.

"So Ducky was only saying those things… you were like a grandson to him, to please call him…because he thought it was your last conversation?" Tobias posed, tried not to let it show in his tone what hog wash he thought that was.

Tony didn't look up nor did he comment back.

Sighing, Tobias ran a hand down his face. "I didn't want you to come back here."

Lowly Tony agreed, "I know. You offered me an out and I should have taken it."

"Yeah and I was wrong." That had Tony's eyes flying up to Tobias', a spark of hurt betrayal flashing in their depths. "Tony, you should know what you mean to them, all of them. Should be told how they feel about you, how they miss you."

Tony straightened and Tobias knew the kid would have surged out of the chair had it not been for his bad knee's limitations. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, huh," true bitterness laced throughout his tone. "And you know what else it does…it distorts everything, softens all the harsh words, dampens the hurts. Makes you think you were overreacting, that things certainly weren't as bad as you thought they were. That you were just being weak, a chump, could have stuck it out longer, as long as you had to." Tony leaned over, his eyes bore into Tobias's. "It lies."

Tobias knew better than to think Tony was just talking about his current reunion with his old NCIS team. It was about his father, about past reunions he had had with that man that only heaped more hurt, more untrust on his soul…because he had let down his guard, wanted to forgive, wanted to be loved. That old story, played over and over again. But the ending never changed.

Than a painful flash of vulnerability and hurt crossed DiNozzo's features. "What is this speech about…you think I should forgive and forget…go back to NCIS?"

"Hell no!" erupted out of Tobias before he could catch himself, turn it into something politically correct. "Not go back. You're FBI now and I'm not letting you off the hook on your commitment to the agency or me." Saw the surprise and then pleasure wash away the other emotions in Tony's face before he continued. "I'm just saying….no one's asking you to burn all your bridges. You don't have to leave everything or everyone in the past. Life is fuller….and better when we have people in it that know us, really know us and still want us to be a part of their life. Like your own team, like Gibbs." When Tony opened his mouth to protest, Tobias held up his hand to forestall him. "He might be a piss poor human being to be around….but you're one of the few people in this world he's allowed himself to care about, and even more importantly…he's showed you his pain."

"He's got a crappy way of caring," Tony defiantly shot back.

"I'm 100% in agreement and I'm not saying he deserves to be forgiven. If it were up to me, you would have never had to share another conversation with the jerk but…you deserve better."

"Better?" Tony croaked, totally at a loss at what Fornell was implying.

"You deserve better than to be stuck following the self-centered rules of jerks like your dad or Gibbs…or even me. You genuinely want to do right by people, want others to not suffer the crap you have or worse. It's why you went into law enforcement."

"Physical ed teacher positions were slim…." Tony began to deflect.

"Hey, give me some credit. I know you DiNozzo, maybe not like Gibbs does but I'm getting there. And I know that part of why this rift with Gibbs and your team is so hard is…holding grudges is not who you are. Hell, I would have mailed that wood sander back to your dad in a million pieces…but not you, you sent him a thank you card, wrote a note about maybe seeing each other sometime. And if he called you up right here and now…you'd meet with him, you wouldn't turn him away."

Tony scowled, tried to not let his hurt feelings show. "So what are you saying? I'm a sap? A pushover? That I don't have any self preservation skills?"

"Maybe the last but…" At Tony's mock glare, Tobias smiled before he sobered again. "Sometimes you have to forgive people, not for their sakes, but for your own. Because this resentment, this anger, it's hurting you, kid. And that's what you don't deserve."

"So you _are_ saying forgive and forget?" Tony practically accused.

Tobias shrugged. "I'm saying….I would like it a lot if you hurt less than you do now. And I think that's the one thing me, Epps, and your old team have in common." Then Tobias stood up, gave Tony's shoulder a gentle squeeze and headed out the door, leaving a speechless Tony in his wake.

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TBC

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Have a great day.

Cheryl


	9. An Eye For An Eye

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 9: An Eye for An Eye

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It was later than Tony planned when he finally was doing his one leg one crutch march to the door, intending to catch Don before he got released from the hospital. Juggling opening the door and keeping hold of his crutch, his maneuver over the door's threshold was awkward and then came to an abrupt halt as two black high platform boots occupied by two black socked legs came into view to his right.

Abby.

Abby sitting on the floor by his door for who knows how long, a while considering she had dozed off and was now jarred awake by his exit. Tony felt his chest tighten and he hated that part of it was affection and part of it was dread at her stubborn determination to talk with him

Then she was scrambling to her feet, wiping a stray piece of black hair that got plastered to her cheek free to stand in front of him, to block his escape down the hall. Before he could think of what to say, could ensure it came out carefree and Tony-like instead of hard and resentful, Abby was talking a mile a minute.

"Tony I had to talk to you before you left. I didn't know if you were _leaving_ leaving or just going out but I have things I need to say and …and you're hearing them." Then she drew in a deep breath and Tony opened his mouth to cut off whatever long winded epistle she was gearing up for but she never gave him the chance to be that rude.

"I know I hurt you and that's unforgiveable and the last thing I ever wanted to do. And I understand why you left and why you don't want to talk to me or see me or….anything. All night I've been trying to think of what I can do to make you forgive me or…not hate me and I …" here she choked back a sob and it nearly broke Tony. Her eyes were glassy with tears when she drew in a shaking breath and continued. "You were there when Gibbs wasn't, when he wouldn't return my calls, when he turned his back on ….the team, on you…on me. And I ….that _hurt_ , him leaving. But I didn't want to …to hate Gibbs, fought so hard not to that I…I wanted you to make up for his sins. Be a better version of him. And that so wasn't fair to you…to make you responsible to absolve Gibbs's faults."

Here Tony was able to get a word in, even if it was a tired sigh of "Abby…" to try and halt her runaway train of thought.

But Abby shook her black pony tailed head, refusing to be silenced. "No, what I did…what we all did to you when Gibbs left was wrong. You were you and that….that …was more than enough to keep us together. You did that, not some belief any of us had that Gibbs would come back, that things could ever to healed again. We all stayed together because of you, Tony and I…we …I never thanked you for that. For being strong enough to do that, for being ….soft hearted enough to let me pretend I believed that Gibbs was coming back, for not yelling at me every day for making you right Gibbs' wrongs."

When she blinked, tears slipped down her face. "But doing that, it hurt you…and you never told anyone. Suffered in silence and …I should have seen it, tried to make it better like you did whenever I felt hurt. And I never….you leaving…" Her voice fell apart then and she looked down wrung her hands before she got herself under control, met his eyes again, her mascara streaked and her face crumpled in misery. "I miss you Tony. No one makes me smile like you do, and asks me why I like the lyrics to the song I'm playing or agrees to dress up like a goth to go clubbing with me or…" Here her voice cracked so hard, Tony had to lean close to catch the words. "And when my pet goldfish Fred died, you weren't there to say you would officiate his funeral. And when I got sad about you leaving, no one told a joke to make me laugh or…or promised me things would get better, made me believe that you'd one day stop hating me."

And Tony felt his heart break, knew his own voice trembled with pain as he murmured, "Abby," before he one handedly pulled her toward him. Then she was flying into his embrace, caused him to stumble back and only the doorframe digging into his back kept him and the goth on their respective feet. Abby didn't notice their near collapse was busy holding him so tight like she wasn't going to ever let him go.

Abby's next words were mumbled into Tony's shirt, "There is no one that can replace you, Tony. No one. And I can't….I don't want to live the rest of my life without you in it." Then she raised her head and her eyes blazed into Tony's, "Tell me what I can do to make you stop hating me and I'll do it. Nothing is too big …or crazy…or …or illegal. Just tell me and I'll do it, no hesitation."

Tony abandoned his struggle to keep himself locked down, to keep his heart sequested away from Abby. The goth had stolen a piece of his heart so many years ago with her goodness and ability to see and accept the real Tony DiNozzo. And apparently she was not willing in the least to return that part of his heart anytime soon. Cupping her face with his hand, he used his thumb to wipe away one of her tears. "Abby…I don't hate you, never could. I was…" And it took all his strength, all his shaken but latent trust in Abby to admit the rest, "I was hurt by you."

That only caused Abby to shudder and more of her tears to fall. "I know and that's …that's …is that unforgiveable? It should be, I know. If someone else hurt you…I would….." She fell silent, she knew what she always did to others that hurt Tony. Fiercely defended Tony, demanded that person treat Tony better, make themselves prove they were worthy to be left near Tony again. "But it's me…so how do I ..punish myself?"

"Abby, you don't need to punish yourself," Tony resolutely insisted even as he knew he had doled out his own version of punishment to Abby already. He had left, had cut her out of his life, had not been there for her like she had been there for him though all the bad times in the past years. He had run away, had wanted to hurt her…to recompense her for the pain her actions had caused him. An eye for an eye…and it had not solved a damn thing. Had only savagely hurt a girl he adored like a sister.

"I already punished you, didn't I?" he quietly prompted and felt his heart break when she nodded her head and then folded into his arms again, sobbing, her hands fisted into his shirt so hard he feared for the fabric's fortitude. He wrapped his hands around her and held her, put his chin on the crown of her head. "I'm sorry Abby. I…I didn't know…no, that's a lie. I _hoped_ my leaving hurt you…and it…"

"It did," Abby brokenly confirmed. "It hurt so bad, Tony. Gibbs might have left because he was confused…or needed to stop doing the job, retire but you…you left because you didn't want to be with us anymore."

Tony rubbed Abby's back. "What a jerk, huh? Little ego bruising and he's trumping out the door like a drama queen."

Abby gave a little punch to Tony's chest. "Hey, that's a friend of mine you're bashing bud."

"Still?" Tony asked and then held his breath.

Abby knew the question Tony was asking, leaned back again and held his gaze. "Tony, you know I wouldn't ruin my makeup for anyone less than one of my bestest friends."

Tony rubbed another tear away, smeared her streaming mascara even more. "Bestest and stupidest friends?"

Again he earned himself a soft punch. "Hey, no calling my friend stupid."

"Ok, how about…lost?" Tony offered, hoping Abby understood the apology in the clarification.

And she did. She smiled at him almost deviously. "That's ok, I've got a tracking device I can implant under your skin so you never get lost again."

"Ah…no. Still no."

"But it will barely hurt."

"It's the _barely_ that has me worried," Tony quirked back.

Smiling, Abby did a happy bob on her feet. "That's the Tony I know and love."

And Tony accepted the declaration at full value. Knew that Abby did love him, no matter all his insecurities and his abandoning her and wanting her to hurt like he had. She still loved him. Still forgave him. "Love you too Abby," he confessed earnestly and her smile brightened, outshined her scream queen look of her ruined makeup.

Then Abby was back to talking a mile a minute. "We can do your favorite things: Restaurants, movies….tv marathons. However long you're still in town we'll fill it up with fun stuff and then when you come back next time …we'll…"

And Abby's perceptiveness when it came to him still startled and touched Tony. "You know I'm not going to change my mind, come back to NCIS?"

Abby's ramble came to a halt and her eyes darkened in sadness. "As much as I want that…we all want that…I know you don't. So I'll take whatever time together we get. And I'll text you and send you pictures and videos and I'll track your location and make sure you're ok and bug Fornell for updates on you."

"So stalk me?" Tony concluded but his smile was a genuinely happy one.

"Yes but only in the nicest good intentioned way," Abby impishly replied back.

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When Tony finally entered Don Epps hospital room, he held up a hand to halt his partner's greeting. "Please don't psychoanalyze me, try and make me talk about my feelings, scold me for being on my feet, or even tell me you think I don't suck as a partner because….I'm on my touchy feely overload for the year."

Don closed his mouth and watched his partner lumber into the room and sink down into the chair at his side. Watched Tony in silence.

But at the void of communication, Tony grumbled "What? Say _something_?"

Don replied in a shrug of his good shoulder, smiled tauntingly at Tony's exasperated look at his continued muteness. Chuckled aloud before he finally broke the silence, "What? You didn't give me much to talk about."

Tony intently stared at the south wall of Don's room. "Blackmailing your superior is not the way to ensure you _ever_ get off the fugitive recovery team."

"So who says I want off?" Don challenged good-naturedly, wasn't surprised Fornell ratted him out, was glad it earned him Tony's full attention.

"You want to lead your own team, I know that," Tony assessed, finally stating the ambition that he had perceived in the other man.

Don's eyes narrowed at Tony's bullseye. "Yeah, ok. But that's down the road, a plan for the future. Right now I'm not willing to give up a job I love…and a partner that's not half bad."

Tony smiled at Don's teasing. " _Not half bad_ …wow, don't hurt yourself with the praise, Epps."

Don smirked back. "Didn't want to inflate that already grossly of out proportion ego of yours."

"Can't believe I came here for this abuse," Tony drawled, sitting back more comfortably in the chair, signaling that he had no intentions of leaving anytime soon. Then he made a show of looking around the small room. "So where's your dad?"

"Went to track down the doctor and see when I'm getting sprung out of here." Don saw Tony shift in uncertainly, like he wanted to leave right then and miss seeing his father again. "Sorry about him being out of line yesterday, blaming you."

"He had every right to. I didn't have your back and Gibbs showing up, screwing up the pooch, probably had something to do with our strained relationship more than his territorial jurisdiction issues. So yeah, I was at fault."

"Last time I checked, you weren't the one who shot me, DiNozzo."

"My screwup led to…."

"There's that ego of yours getting out of control again," Don drawled, enjoyed Tony's mocking glare. "Things went FUBAR but I'm ok….you're ok, right? Kind of." A question in the statement and Tony knew it wasn't about his physical hurts.

Tony gave one of his best Oscar worthy smiles. "What? Me? Just a little knee drama which won't keep me down long."

But Don wouldn't let him off the hook that easily, hadn't needed Tony's opening words when he walked into the room to read the tension in his partner. "Any other drama you want to not talk about?"

"I think you were here when I said I didn't want to be psychoanalyzed," Tony shot back but without rancor, knowing Don's pushing was a product of his concern for him. More concern…that's all Tony needed at the moment.

Don raised his hand in accepted defeat but his next words belied that. "Just that you look as tired as I feel and you didn't have nurses poking and prodding you all night long."

"Were they pretty nurses?" Tony shot back with a lascivious smile.

Don couldn't hold back a smirk. "One of them was. But before you ask, no, I'm not introducing you and shooting down my own chances were her."

"Selfish, selfish of you," Tony taunted but there was a proud look in his eyes. Then he turned serious suddenly and Don wasn't sure what his partner was about to talk about but he didn't guess it would be his father. "So your dad….he seems to care about you, came all this way when he heard you were wounded."

Don felt like there was a question in there…and knew what it was. Felt himself looking to the door, making sure his father wasn't about to walk in that second. "Yeah, he….he worries."

"That's….nice," Tony said a little stilted, hated that part of him was jealous of Don for having a father that worried about him, cared about him, loved him.

Don snorted. "Yeah, nice. More like suffocating sometimes and unnecessary and…." He broke off, eyes flickering to Tony with embarrassment. "Sorry, forgot about the no touchy feely fly zone."

Tony shrugged. "One fly by would be ok I think. So you're not….you didn't want….he shouldn't have come?"

"He didn't need to come," Don firmly clarified. "I'm fine."

"But it was….nice he cared, right?" Tony asked, feeling himself blindly going along the path. After all, what did he know about normal family interactions?!

"Cared…or wanted to say this proves how right he is that I should quit my job, go be a …..math whiz like Charlie. Solve the world's problems with numbers," Don bitterly said before he caught himself. "Sorry…didn't mean to dump my family drama on you."

Tony shrugged again. "I dragged you into my ex-team's drama, so it's only fair. Which got you shot so….I do deserve a little payback right?"

Don gave a tired smile. "You have a unique way of seeing the world, DiNozzo."

Tony frowned. "Unique as in screwed up…."

Don laughed good-heartedly, "Sometimes but not in this." Then he met his partner's gaze. "Growing up my parents cared about Charlies' future, not mine. I was left struggling to….find my own way. And ok, they were _there_ but ….it takes a lot more than physically being there to count for being there emotionally, you know."

Tony solemnly nodded his head. "Yeah, I know." And he did, even when his father was right beside him, he had no time for him, acted like he didn't exist. So yeah, he knew the difference between being there for your kids and _being there._ A world of difference. "So is this…him making that up to you?"

Don studied his bed sheets. "Don't know but it's….not needed."

"Is it not wanted?" Tony quietly asked and Don's head shot up to meet his gaze. Realizing he might have crossed a line, Tony backtracked, "Sorry I …it's none of my business."

"No, it's..it's Ok. I just….didn't think about it in those lines," Don admitted. Silence fell again in the room. "His caring it….feels good but I …."

"Don't trust it," Tony ventured, saw the agreement to his statement in his partner's eyes before Don nodded.

"I shouldn't rely on him, I know that. Charlie…he could but me…no. I'm not saying he was ever a bad father really but…." Don sighed then, leaned his head back against the headboard. "It's stupid isn't it? We're all grown up, men, FBI agents…"

"That strike fear into fugitive's hearts," Tony tacked on and Don smiled for his efforts.

"And yet, we still yearn for….a father's approval," Don admitted.

"Yeah and it sucks," Tony breathed out. "I keep trying to fix that part of me, cut it out, remake it. Undo the damage, heal the scars, to not want…something I just can't get."

"Ditto," Don agreed with a sad smile. "So be my therapist, DiNozzo. Tell me what to do about my dad trying to make up for his past failures. Should I send him packing? Tell him he blew his last chance ten years ago to be Ward Cleaver in my eyes?"

Tony cleared his throat, shifted in his seat before he forced words out of his mouth. "You don't know what I'd give to have my father care about me, for him to have showed up when I had the plague. He was a bastard who beat me black and blue and I still….it still matters that he doesn't love me. That he said I'll die lying in some ditch and …I knew he'd never care if that really was how things ended for me."

Forcing his head up, he looked to Don, could feel the empathy from his partner. "But your dad, he might have screwed up raising you but he loves you, Don. He came here, he worried about you, he's pissed that you don't call him. Maybe it's not enough to erase the hurt of the past but it makes the present a lot less shitty, right?"

Don was silent for so long Tony almost apologized again for thinking he knew a crap about counseling someone how to deal with a father that loved him. But then Don spoke, "You're a good guy, Tony. Better than you want to let on or want people to expect out of you. I can see why your old team misses you so much."

Tony started to protest but Don cut him off. "But they can't have you back, that clear?"

Hoarsely, Tony affirmed, "Wasn't going back."

Then Don's father bustled back into the room, ranting and raving about the doctor's refusal to set a time for Don's release. He came up short at the sight of Tony in the chair he had been occupying.

Trying to quickly come to his feet and vacate the chair, Tony stumbled a bit, was surprised when Alan Epps reached out to steady him.

"My son has told me all about you," Alan began, watched as the color drained from Tony's face and knew things weren't going the way he intended. Hastily he tried to make amends, "No, good things! Told me I yelled at the guy who saved his life not endangered it. That you're the best partner he's ever had, that he's alive today because of you on more than one occasion."

"He exaggerated a lot of that," Tony demurred but Alan wasn't letting him off the hook.

"No, he wouldn't. Thank you…for taking care of my son. You don't…he ….well I love him and don't want harm to come to him."

"Ddaadd," Don whined like an embarrassed ten year old but Alan waved him off.

"Hey, I get to say I'm sorry anyway I want to," his eyes never leaving Tony's.

"Not necessary," Tony demurred.

But Alan was as stubborn as Don apparently. "Yeah, it was. I reamed you out…and when your ex-boss showed up last night, I gave him a piece of my mind too when he re-confessed that he was at fault for Donny's injuries not you."

"Wait, Gibbs came here?" Tony's eyes straying to Don's.

"Conversation kind of went like this one is. He thanked me for taking care of you," Don smirked, enjoyed Tony's shocked expression. "Must be a _dad_ thing," he quietly qualified, sending a message to Tony he hadn't had the time to do with his own dad's untimely reappearance in the room.

Then Alan was manhandling Tony back into the chair, was asking him if he needed some water, if his knee needed physical therapy. And amid it all, Tony couldn't shut out Don's analogy. Maybe didn't want to. 

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Tony found out that, apparently some things didn't change. Like Gibbs leaving his front door unlocked. He had to clear the trepidation in his throat before he called out, "Hello to the house?" but there was no greeting back. Again, that wasn't unusual either. So Tony bit the bullet and used his crutches to reach the basement door, steeled himself for the physical task of negotiated the steps as much as the emotional upheaval this path was likely to cost him.

One step, then two, then three, finally four and he could see into the basement without bending over and losing his precarious balance. But the devastation he saw almost cost him that balance anyways. Believing it was better to sink down onto the step verses toppling down the stairs, his butt met the wooden step heavily. And then he sat there in shocked stupor.

Sure, it was not normal behavior for a boat to be in a basement but this was _Gibbs'_ basement. What wasn't normal for Gibbs was the state of the boat. Broken bow, shattered beams on both sides, nails…glass strewn across the floor, treasured tools off their neat holding wracks tossed on the counter, onto the cold concrete floor. Wood splintered and ruined, no longer able to be the building blocks for a boat that would ever float.

Rage, despair, pain…..regret.

The words were there in the devastation, words that Gibbs would probably never speak.

And Tony felt gutted and humbled and scared and….misguided, wrong. He had wanted his leaving to hurt Gibbs, but thought it wouldn't. He thought he knew what he meant to Gibbs, but maybe he didn't. Maybe he didn't know a damn thing at all.

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TBC

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Thanks so much for everyone who's continuing to read this story and drop me lovely words of encouragement!

Have a great day!

Cheryl


	10. 10: Do Unto Others

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: This is just a short chapter but I'm hoping you all think that a little progress is better than none.

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Chapter 10: Do Unto Others

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The great Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything. At least that's what he wanted people to believe. That he was invincible, unable to be hurt, never wrong, would have no occasion to apologize. His word was law, his gut was always right on the money and he didn't make wrong decisions…on the job. Sure, what with the ex-wives, there was proof that in his personal life he wasn't so right about his choices all the time. But one fault, one that didn't affect his shining reputation as NCIS legend Special Agent Gibbs, could be overlooked.

And yet it was all a lie. Not one that someone else fabricated but that he did. To cover his multitude of failures. How he had failed to be there when his wife and daughter needed him most, had not saved them, had been a world away when they were murdered. Had not contacted them in weeks before that happened, had put his missions first, had prioritized them and they came in second to his military career. And then they were gone. Gone and not coming back. Had taken his fantasy that he would one day tire of being a god of war and come home, maybe enjoy the calmness of sitting on the front porch watching his wife garden, take his daughter hiking, maybe meet the neighbors do cookouts, steaks on the grill. Would get a safe job, not so much boring as satisfying. And in all that dreaming, he would be the perfect husband, the perfect father, have the perfect future, deserved that…because…he just did.

Apparently the world disagreed with that assessment. Took everything he thought he knew, about himself, about his future and blew it to the four winds.

He had been trying to reshape his world ever since. To make it impregnable to the winds' forces. To expect the worst and still stand. Wives leaving: understandable and bearable. Kate dying: unexpected and painful but nothing he hadn't experienced before, comrades in war died. It was the nature of things. And Kate had been one heck of a good soldier but a soldier all the same.

Then came the explosion, his memories of his family resurfacing, his out of body like dream of meeting Kelly and others gone from him and then there was him waking up, realizing there was crater sized holes in his memories, that he didn't know himself. Signaled a new level of loss of control which left him scrambling to refortify his walls, to be able to handle the gales of wind again. Had thought to do what he had done when his family was murdered, become someone new. Someone who didn't smile much, yeah, who growled more than spoke, who head slapped and glared instead of consoled, instructed and offered a few well- deserved free passes. Became someone Shannon wouldn't recognize. (Maybe someone she wouldn't like..love. But what did that matter, she wasn't there, had vetoed her right to approve who he was, how he used her rules, twisted her rules.)

But his latest try to reincarnate his character was an utter failure because, where Shannon and Kelly had no longer been there for him to come back to, Tony, Abby, Ducky, Tim, and Ziva weren't dead…well to anybody but him. He wanted to believe they didn't exist anymore, that he had no option to return to them, that they were as gone as his wife and daughter had been all those years ago. But they weren't. Their repeated calls to his voice mails, the memories of them, the times he told Mike stories about them, the times he reached for the phone to call Tony and barely stopped himself told him that he could run away, even back to war if he wanted to, and it wouldn't cut out who these people were to him, still were to him: his family.

And it was one thing when your family was ripped away from you, taken when you weren't looking, it was another thing entirely when you abandoned them. Pretended they weren't good enough to make it into the next stage of your life, that the new you had no use for them. Were in the past, another former life gone, like ashes on the wind. Except they weren't gone, were in DC, right where he had left them. The only one gone was him….like he had been gone in war when Shannon and Kelly needed him most.

DiNozzo thought it was Ziva's call that had brought him back to DC, that it was the ex-mossad's need for his protection that had him ditching the beers on the beach lifestye. And he let him think that. He was less exposed by that belief than telling his former second in command that he listened to every voice mail he left him, closed his eyes in relief every time the kid's number popped up on his cellphone screen because it meant Tony was alive, was out there safe. Never confessed that he was already packing his bags when Ziva called, answered her call because he had heard Tony's message five minutes before. His team was in danger, and yes, so far it was just one member but he knew Tony would step in the line of fire for Ziva, for anyone on their team, heck for complete strangers, all with a smirk on his face. So yeah, Ziva was the target but that in no way meant Tony was safe…or any of the others. Going back wasn't even a debate at that realization. Because he might be fuzzy on a lot of details and past events but he remembered acutely what it felt like to have people he loved taken from him. To not be there to save them and that wasn't happened again, not on his watch.

So he had plowed back into NCIS, reclaimed his throne and pretended nothing had changed. That his little retirement foray hadn't cost him anything. But it had. Had cost him the most precious things he had garnered: the warranted respect and unreserved love of his team. And more than that, it had put a distance between his second command and himself, well his leaving and the piss poor way he treated DiNozzo upon his return to power did. And since Tony's resignation, he had tried to sell the notion that Fornell used that distance to sneak in between them, to take the trust Tony had lost in him and draw it to himself. To take what was rightfully his…but that wasn't quite right. Jethro had to accept that now.

Tony's trust was Tony's to bestow…and take away. He gave it too freely sometimes…and only rescinded it when it was shattered beyond belief. When two bastards threw his love back in his face like it was worthless.

But Jethro knew what… _who_ was worthless in this situation, finally admitted it. It was him, his actions, his need to protection himself from harm while inflicting it on the people he loved best. It made sense that Tony didn't want to have anything to do with him, that he was too smart to let him back into his life, to open himself up to more hurt from people who should have vowed to protect him from hurt, not do the damage by their own hands.

And if Jethro was the oh so honorable man he wanted everyone to believe he was, he would let Tony go. Do as Ducky suggested. Do it, not because he didn't love the kid, but because he did.

But those falsehoods of who he was, of hiding what he was truly feeling, had cost Jethro enough already. So if there was even the slimmest chance that he could right some of his wrongs, heal some of Tony's wounds that he had inflicted, keep the kid from forever leaving him in his past, Jethro was going to take it.

Putting away his fear of utter failure, of Tony slamming the door in his face, or worse, opening the door only to tell him he was leaving and there was no hope for any reconciliation between them in this lifetime, Jethro exited his car and entered Tony's apartment building. He made his way to Tony's floor and then did a moment of hesitation, of uncertainty…of fear before he knocked on the kid's door.

A knock, repeated knocks and calls that weren't answered.

Suddenly fear gripped him. Had him mentally picturing Tony on the ground, having fallen and injured his knee worse or had lung complications after his dip in the river. But as he dug out his spare key to open the door, Jethro knew his hand wasn't shaking over either of those possibilities. No, it was the abject dread that he'd open the door and know again that Tony was gone, had left…and wasn't coming back. For good this time. No random reunions, no more update reports through Fornell, just….gone. Away from him, forever. And he couldn't bear that, knew it would rip him apart, his reforged walls be damned.

Finally the door swung open under his manipulation…and he only breathed when he saw Tony's FBI duffle bag on the living room floor. Did a sweep of the apartment and breathed even better when he didn't find DiNozzo on the floor in pain. Didn't find him at all.

Running his hand through his grey hair, Jethro let out a sigh. Tony wasn't there. All his gearing up for a conversation, for his pride to be set aside and now…it wasn't happening. Sinking down on the arm of the couch, he pulled out his phone, but then he remembered, no one had managed to get Tony's new phone number, had been granted an olive branch into his new life. And yes, misery loved company but Gibbs knew it was a bad sign if the ones with the least sins weren't being forgiven, then what were the chances he would be?!

Unprovoked, he thought of sins he was holding against his own father. He hated that he could sympathize a little with the man's pain after having had one surrogate son turn away from him in hurt and anger. A rule came to him then, not one of Shannon's but one from a much higher caller. _Do unto others as you would have them do unto you._

What made him think he deserved forgiveness when he offered none himself? When he was inflicting similar pain that he felt on his own father? For years…not just six months. Jethro's heart clenched painfully at the prospect Tony might leave and not talk to him again for years…maybe never. He didn't like the feeling, not one bit.

Pulling out his phone, Jethro dialed a number he hadn't forgotten. Felt something he refused to name contentment when his own father's voice came through the cellphone's speakers.

"Hello?"

"Dad."

"Leroy?" and there was incredulousness evident in Jack Gibbs' happy tone.

A tone that settled Jethro's fear that his call would be unwelcome after his anger kept them separate for so long. "How are you, Dad?"

"Better now," Jack admitted with a brief but hearty chuckle.

That earnest and open declaration, it just proved Jethro's theory was right, that it was the same for his Dad as it was for him. Just like seeing Tony had made things better for him, eased some of his pain, just hearing his voice had done the same for his father. Shame washed over him. "I shouldn't have let it go so long."

"I shouldn't have been such a dang fool, did what I did," was Jack's humiliated replied.

Instead of agreeing with his father, Jethro snorted. "Being fools seems to run in the Gibbs bloodline."

A pause then his father asked timidly, "You still talking about this mess between us?"

Jethro gave a smile and shook his head, even after all these years his dad could still read between the lines that something was bothering him, that he had called more than to heal up their broken relationship. And more astoundingly…no, not astounding…more humbling was that his father honestly cared that he was hurting. Even after all the hurt he had purposely inflicted on him.

"More me being the fool. You're not the only one I pushed away," Jethro admitted, felt it was a long time since he had opened up to his father like this, even before he lost his family. Maybe since he had defied Jack and joined the Marines, sure he knew better what life choices to make than his stubborn, shortsighted father.

"Sorry, son," Jack responded with true sympathy echoing in his voice. "Can you head this problem off before it ends in divorce?"

Jethro felt surprise ripple through him. "Why do you think it's wife issues?" more curiosity than rancor at his father's wrong guess.

"Well…you've had a few tries in that department and they didn't turn out well."

"How do you know that?" surprised at his dad's knowledge of his personal life when they had no contact for years.

"We have internet here. I can read the papers from your big city, know how to find the divorce listings."

"You scan the divorce records?" amusement tinged Jethro's inquiry.

Jack chuckled. "Not a lot to do here in a small town and I have to keep track of you somehow over the years."

"You wouldn't make a bad investigator. Course you always knew when I took the car out without your permission or lied to you." The memories coming now without the hue of anger they usually did.

"More father instincts than investigator's. So, if not a wife, who did you push away?" Jack probed gently, knew how precarious this contact with his estranged son was, how quickly it could smolder away if he wasn't careful.

Jethro sighed, ran a hand through his hair as he confessed his failure to his father. "I had a younger man working for me…but not anymore. He left…because of me, because I hurt him and didn't respect him. Now he won't talk to me…like I did to you."

"Ah…" was Jack's loaded reaction of too familiar understanding. Knew why his son was offering the olive branch he was. Sometimes it took the shoe being on the other foot before you could see another person's point of view.

And Jethro read everything he should into this father's comeback. Ruefully admitted, "And yeah…it hurts."

Jack didn't rub his son's face in his pain, wouldn't. Instead felt acute sympathetic pain for his son's situation. "But this kid, he means a lot to you."

"More than I ever told him, would ever tell him. You'd like him. Heck, everyone likes Tony, even when they don't want to."

"Didn't you want to? Like him, that is."

And it was just like his father to ask the question that mattered the most. "He wasn't supposed to get under my skin, was just supposed to be someone I could trust to do a good job on my team. He wasn't supposed to….come to mean so much to me. I'm not supposed to miss him this hard…or hurt that's he's right here and I can't…I can't get him to talk to me, let alone forgive me. And I know that I don't deserve his forgiveness…but it doesn't stop me wanting it."

Jack sighed in commiseration. "I know the feeling."

Shame again washed over Jethro, knowing his Dad did know how all this felt. "Dad…I shouldn't have….I let it go too long…probably read too much into it. I'm not a little boy, I know my mother's gone that you have the right…the need even to move on. And I resented you that…even as I went through three wives trying to replace Shannon." He snorted. "Talk about a hypocrite, huh?"

"What I did, bringing another woman with me to your girls' funeral, it hurt you and I …I'm sorry, son. It wasn't my intentions. I just didn't think….at all."

"Another family trait you passed onto me, huh?" Jethro bitterly teased.

Jack sighed into the phone. "Sometimes that happens when we are in pain and try and shield ourselves from more. That why you pushed this kid away, to shield yourself from pain?"

"Few times I thought I lost him and I….it was like losing Kelly all over again. And I was …pissed he put me through that, more pissed that he could hurt me like that when no one was supposed to have that power. Ever again." Admitting that, realizing the root of his actions toward Tony, it should have made things easier, made Jethro see a way to right his wrongs, but it didn't.

"Well, sounds like you're getting your second chance to make things right between you," Jack optimistically reasoned.

"That's the thing, he's not letting me try and make things right between us…won't even let me get more than a word or two out before he's either leaving or we're growling at each other."

"You'd be amazed what you can get done with a kind word, Leroy. And my pies do wonders in the forgiveness department."

"What?" Jethro felt he lost track of the conversation with his father's last statement.

"My apple pie, won your mom with it and soothed over a few storm clouds in our marriage too."

There was that country thinking of his father's again. That belief that complicated problems could be solved with simple solutions…like an offering of pie. "Pie doesn't heal all wounds."

"Better than time, Leroy. Invite him to Easter. I'll make him a pie that he won't forget and he'll be so taken with it, he'll forgive you just so he can get invited up here again."

"Dad, that's not even remotely how things would happen."

"Never know until you try."

"This just your way of asking me home for Easter?" Jethro wondered, realizing then just how much he had longed to go home, to be with his father.

"Course it's my way of inviting you home, son. And if Tony is an important to you as you say, invite him along. Not for my pie but because holidays are for families to get together and if you've gone and adopted this kid, he should know where his family comes from."

"You make it sound like he's ten. He's a grown man, dad." Even though part of Jethro wished Tony was a kid, could be wowed with sweets and offered his forgiveness over even the slightly kind gesture. But Tony's father's had burned all those chances down with a flame thrower, leaving Jethro only the hard way to reach the abused, scarred man that Tony had grown up to be.

But Jack had a comeback for his son. "I'm a grown man, so are you. Doesn't make family any less important to us, does it?"

And that was the heart of everything. All wrapped up in one sentence. It made Jethro earnestly claim, "Dad…I've missed you."

"Missed you too, son," Jack returned, a smile evident in his voice. "Now what time can I expect you two on Good Friday?"

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tbc

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Thanks for continuing to read this story and a shout of gratitude goes out to all my awesome reviewers!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	11. Second Chances

Recovery & Loss Prevention

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to NCIS or Numb3rs, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Final Chapter!

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Chapter 11: Second Chances

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Though his conversation with his father had lightened his heart of a weight he had been carrying around for years, the no show of Tony at his own apartment dampened whatever sliver of hopefulness Jethro clung to for reconciliation between them. Heck, at this point even a one sided conversation with Tony over the phone would have been a victory.

So his steps were heavy as he trudged into his dark house, didn't bother turning on the lights as he dumped his keys on the table by the door. And it was a testament to how distracted he was by his raging emotions that he didn't sense that he wasn't alone until Tony spoke.

"Don't think the boat's ever going to be sea worthy."

Jethro stopped mid step, his heart clutching before it pounded away in his chest. Slowly he turned on the lights but didn't move forward, stood there uncertain in his own home, his eyes taking in Tony sitting on his couch, head down, pointedly not looking at him, focusing on the floor instead. Forcing down his stunned reaction to his guest's presence, Jethro replayed Tony's greeting in his head and fought not to flinch. He hadn't planned on anyone, especially not Tony, seeing his boat in the state that he had left it in. It bespoke of things he wanted to keep hidden, of insights he didn't want others to have into his soul, of pain he couldn't shut down and bury.

His voice was raspy as he broke the silence that had fallen in the room for the past minutes. "Didn't expect you would ever come here again."

"Last stop on the farewell tour, I guess," Tony quietly said, eyes still on the floor instead of the man whose house he had stolen into.

Jethro's jaw jumped at thinking that this could be the last time Tony would be there, that they would have this time together, just the two of them. And with everything in him, he wanted to delay the end of this moment. "I'll make coffee," he announced, like he had a hundred times before when Tony showed up at his place after a tough case. He began stalking for the kitchen.

Tony's head jerked up at Gibbs' statement, watched his former boss headed for the kitchen and felt the destruction in the basement hadn't meant a thing after all. This was all he would get from Gibbs, should expect to get from Gibbs: the shut out, the same old 'let's drink coffee and you can spill your guts but you don't get to hear my thoughts'. He hadn't miraculously earned Gibbs' trust just because he left Gibbs and NCIS in a huff six months ago, was never going to be allowed to see the real man under Gibbs' abrasive exterior, to know what Gibbs was thinking, to know why the usually stoic man had destroyed his boat. Nothing had changed, would change between them. Their roles were set in stone…thing was, Tony was done letting the older man play some surrogate big brother/father game, a " _game_ " that had put more scars on Tony than even his father had managed.

Tony suddenly, scornfully, hated himself for harboring some childish wish that Gibbs felt a fatherly affection for him, cared for him even now that he wasn't his agent, had wanted to believe that his relationship with Gibbs went deeper than boss and subordinate. Crushing that dream that a grown man should no longer crave, Tony got up with a bit of struggle with his crutch, tossed over his shoulder as he hobbled toward the door, "Don't bother with the coffee."

Abruptly swinging around at Tony's words, Jethro was stunned to see Tony heading for the door. He felt his heart drop to his feet, knew this was it, that he was somehow messing up his last chance to make amends with the kid he cared so much for. "Wait, just...wait!"

Tony stopped halfway toward the front door but didn't turn around. "Wait for what, huh?" he bitterly challenged, before he left open the floodgates of all the hurt Gibbs had inflicted on him during their time together, hurt that he had swallowed down in silence for years. "For you to stop being a jackass, for you to give me an honest to goodness compliment and not take it back the next second, for you to finally value me, if not me as a person at least admit I was a great agent." Awkwardly he used his crunches to turn around, face the man he was blaming for making him redo the mistakes of his childhood all over again. "That's like waiting for my dad to realize beating me wasn't his god given right, that when I got hurt he was supposed to give a crap. I've naively clung to all these crazy fantasies… but now I'm done. I'm done waiting for things that will never happen." His chest heaving, Tony knew he should turn and go and yet…he stood there doing what he just vowed he wouldn't: waiting, waiting for the miracle he swore he didn't expect, didn't even want anymore.

Coming forward, hands itching to latch onto Tony, to ensure the younger man didn't leave, Jethro shouted in fevered exasperation, "What do you want me to do, Tony?!" Because he couldn't undo all the wrongs he had done to this remarkable, incredibly smart, perceptive, _damaged_ man. He knew that now. You couldn't unhurt someone, you just couldn't. And he hated being lost, being out of control, not knowing how to solve a mystery. He thrived only when he could stack the cards so he held a winning hand every time. And this was the opposite of all that, was so reminiscent of getting that call that his wife and daughter were dead, that awful proof that he was in control of nothing, could lose everything and everyone he cared about and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. So right now he wanted, _needed_ Tony to tell him how to solve this mystery, to ensure that what they had between them didn't die, to stop his world from caving in all over again.

Tony's eyes darkened at Gibbs' shout and his lips turned up into a cruel mockery of a smile. "Do? Nothing. You can't change who you are and I'm done telling myself the times you praised me outshine the times you cut me down, that you hurt me knowingly without the slightest remorse." Then his tone turned bitterly contemplative. "But then, maybe that's the best I deserve: my father's version of fatherly attention, your version of respect."

But something shifted in Tony's eyes then, lightened them and Jethro wished he could take credit, knew the next second when Tony spoke that it hadn't a thing to do with him. "Except… Fornell thought differently, gave me a chance for more. Like the FBI has, like Don has. I'm not stupid enough to walk away from that."

Jealousy surged through Gibbs, made him shake with anger. "But you can walk away from me? From Abby and Ducky and Tim and Palmer and Ziva?"

"I already did. I'm already gone," Tony declared with cold finality. "Fill your Senior Field Agent position because I'm not coming back and Tim either needs to know you believe in him enough to do that job or hire someone else. Your team needs to be complete." And that was all Tony planned on saying, was going to head out the door but Gibbs' next words shocked him into immobility.

"I'll leave." That proposal sucked all the air from the room, left the two men staring at each other neither man breathing for a space of a few heart beats. "You can come back, run the team and I'll retire," Jethro propositioned, took in a shaky breath before he said the hard part, did the real sacrifice, shared the need in his soul. "Just…just don't cut me out of your life."

And it was just like Gibbs to try and manipulate him, to control the situation, to not make it personal but all business. Pointing a finger at his former mentor, Tony growled, "I didn't move to D.C. six years ago to work for NCIS! I moved here to work for you!"

"So what, I'm the reason you came and I'm the reason you're leaving?" Jethro shot back, wished he didn't know the answer already. Because Tony's loyalty to him, it only heaped more coals on his head, only condemned him more for destroying that kind of underserved and prized devotion.

Darkly, Tony smirked. "What can I say? Some people impact your life, good, bad, you learn from it and then you take a different path."

Stepping menacingly into Tony's personal space, Jethro thunderously accused, "You're not even listening to me, giving me a chance to make this right?!"

But Tony didn't back down from Gibbs' rage or the ex-marine's attempt to physically crowd him. "Make it right by what? Some words of apology?!" he scoffed angrily. "By swearing to pat me on the back instead of slap me on the head? To take back all the times you let me down?" Then he was the one closing in the remaining space, lowly hissing into Gibbs' face. "There are no do-overs. Kate didn't get one and she should have. And Paula didn't either. I'm alive when it just as easily could have been me dead instead of them and I have to do _something_ to earn that!" His next words came out breathless, choked, and wretched, "I have to _value_ being alive and I should laugh more than I hurt or their deaths should have been mine."

Jethro stumbled back at Tony's raw pain, at the younger man's so very flawed belief that he didn't deserve to live when two women in his life had tragically been killed inches from him. Jethro's words, when he could finally find them, came out heartbroken, soft and gentle, "Tony, they wouldn't want you to have died in their place. Not Kate and not Paula. I saw Paula push you away to save you. And, maybe it's shameful, but I thank God she did that. That I didn't lose you, that Abby and Tim and Ducky and Ziva didn't lose you."

Tony shook his head, in denial, in shame, Jethro didn't know which but he reached out, seized Tony's chin and gently turned the younger man's face to meet his gaze. "But you're right. Kate and Paula, they would want you to laugh more, to be happy. And they both would kick my butt for hurting you like I have."

Shifting backwards, Tony pulled his chin out of Gibbs' hold, dropped his look to the floor, fought the burning in his eyes of tears he refused to shed because of Gibbs' words. Because of what he knew in his heart of hearts: that both women had tried to protect him from hurt in their own ways. Had gone toe to toe with Gibbs when they thought his mentor was mistreating him. They had acted like he imagined big sisters would do to safeguard their little brother.

Realizing the pain that Tony was in and wanting to do anything to ease some of it, Jethro lightly cupped the back of Tony's bowed head. "They loved you, Tony, and they wouldn't want that love to cause you pain." Here Jethro squeezed his own eyes shut tightly before he exhaled, spoke from his heart, "And I know my love has brought you more pain than it ever brought you joy. And I'm so sorry for that."

Gibbs' declaration had Tony's eyes shooting up to his mentor's, shock and disbelief written all over his face at the older man's utterance of the word _love_ , of his _apology._ Two very foreign things to ever come out of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' mouth.

Jethro almost laughed at Tony's expression, at the kid's incredulity that Jethro Gibbs knew how to talk about his emotions, his failures, could say he was sorry. But it also hurt too much knowing that Tony perceived him so cold, so untouchable, so unable to love him like he had once loved his daughter. He struggled to make the kid believe him, believe in him, to know him…maybe for the first time in all the years of their partnership/friendship.

Letting his hand fall away from Tony, Jethro fisted it at his side, struggled to get the thoughts in his head, the feelings in his heart to form words. "You said that you naively clung to fantasies of how your relationship with your father would be, should be…well, I had… _have_ those types of thoughts about the type of husband I would have been to Shannon."' Jethro recognized Tony's stance stiffening at the mention of his dead wife, at a topic Gibbs never talked about with Tony, had tried his best to keep separate from the odd family he had created for himself within his NCIS team. "In my head, we would have been happily married even when we were old and grey. No three ex-wives, no alimonies, no regrets. And Kelly…" Jethro had to swallow hard as memories of his daughter flashed behind his eyes, of the dreams of talking to her he had while he was in his coma. "She would have thought I was a cool dad, would have brought all her dates home to get my approval. We would have had father/daughter trips. She would have asked my advice about choices in her life." Jethro paused then, held Tony's gaze meaningfully before he said the rest. "And I would have _never_ hurt her...or pushed her away. She'd never leave and not want me to call her, to no longer want me to be a part of her life."

Knowing the correlation he was supposed to make in Gibbs' story, Tony growled, "I'm not Kelly." But Tony knew he wasn't being honest with Gibbs..or himself. How often had he tried to make Gibbs' whitewash away his own father's faults, had pretended that Gibbs cared for him at least 1%...5% like he would his own kid. That Gibbs thought better of him than his own father did.

Tony's refusal of his comparison hurt, made Jethro prepare himself for his next words to have no effect on the younger man, to confess everything and yet gain nothing. But Tony was worth the risk, had been worth a lot more than he ever gave him and now was the time for him to pay up…even if it was the last time. "No, you're not Kelly…..but, Tony, you filled some of the void she left in my life. And maybe you didn't want that. I sure never planned it. And it scared the hell out of me when I realized that you had done that. I didn't...want anyone to be that important to me, to make me that vulnerable again. Because I knew I couldn't lose someone that I cared that much about again. So I...I guess I ..." But Jethro shook his head, knew he couldn't hold back, not now. Not if he wanted to be sure he did everything he could to not lose Tony. So he bitterly corrected himself, "No, I _know_ I was the worst bastard I could be to you whenever you scared me, when I thought I _had_ lost you or _could_ lose you …like I had Kelly. The time you got drugged and locked in the sewers, that screwed up undercover op with the prison bus escape ...your car bombing...that boat trip you took with Giacchino."

Tony felt overwhelmed at first, not sure if Gibbs' words could be trusted, that this was actually Gibbs talking. Gibbs who thought, "good job" was akin to giving him a freaking parade and a twenty gun salute. But even as disbelief was swayed over to belief, anger surfaced at this Johnny-come-lately, talk show worthy confession of long buried care and concern. "And what am I supposed to say to any of that?" he lowly hissed, eyes blazing into Gibbs. "That 'hey it's ok that I was your personal punching bag because you "care about me"'?! I gotta tell you, free passes for that type of "care" that type of " _love_ ", they have long been used up, by you and by my father."

And it hurt, being grouped in with Tony's dad, even as Jethro knew he deserved nothing less. "No, it ...it's not ok and you don't have to ever be ok with it. I just..." Jethro broke off, ran his hand through his hair, then his eyes beseeched Tony. "I'm not good with this..."

But his confession of weakness only garnered contempt from Tony. "Something Jethro Gibbs isn't good at. Wow! What a momentous occasion."

Jethro matched Tony's contempt with exasperated anger, challenged, "Why did you come here if you ...if you already decided to not give me a second chance?!"

Tony shifted uncomfortable on his one leg and crutch at the unanticipated question Gibbs had just thrown his way. And he wanted to lie, go with the 'farewell tour' line again…but couldn't. Didn't want to lie anymore, didn't want the last thing between he and Gibbs to be a lie, his lie. So he steadily met Gibbs' eyes and told the truth, foolishly allowed himself to be vulnerable, gave Gibbs one final…best chance to hurt him. "I didn't think it really mattered that I left. Thought that your lives would go on as before... _better_ than when I was here. But then Abby...she said..." he faltered a moment, drew in a breath and then said the rest. "She made me doubt that. Doubt how I thought you felt...and then your boat..." He stammered to silence, still unconvinced of what he should conclude from the boat's wreckage, what he _wanted_ desperately to conclude.

"How did you think I would feel, Tony?" Jethro achingly asked, his pain and regret shining through the hoarseness of his voice. "You quit, then you up and leave town, cut all ties and I knew it was because of me, the things I said back on that dock...how I treated you then...and before. How I've always treated you: like I valued you one second and with contempt the next. You were gone and I knew that I wasn't getting you back and ..." Jethro broke off, took a few paces around the room before he faced Tony. "You want to know how that _felt_?"

And Tony knew Jethro had said enough, that he shouldn't want more, couldn't expect more but he did. Even as he knew it would cost Gibbs something, would maybe hurt the older man, Tony quietly insisted, "Yes, I want to know how that felt." Because part of him wanted Gibbs in pain, for the man's pain to match his own.

Jethro stood stock still, felt the cold rush of despair flow over him as memories very old and so very recent played in his head, ripped into his heart. "It felt a lot like losing Kelly again. Losing a child, not from a sniper bullet, but because they hated me and I ...I couldn't bear that. Bear that I was that kind of father….to you, would have been to Kelly. A father just like yours…that hurt his son…instead of protecting him."

Tony didn't have the words, not at first. He was too overwhelmed to formulate any. Was too….humbled and shamed and happy and… astounded for thoughts, let alone speech. And Gibbs, typically, didn't talk either. Which left them there staring at each other like some lame Hallmark movie which Tony would have hated and turned off in three seconds flat. So he had to be the one to break the silence, had to at least make the move to upgrade them to one of those Million Dollar Movies that used to be play on tv at midnight and were guaranteed that you'd need a hanky or two before the credit's rolled. "My dad was glad to see me go. His parting words were: " _You'll die in a gutter alone and it'll be just what you deserve."_ " And for as many times and ways that he had condemned Gibbs for being like his father…Gibbs was nothing like his father where and when it counted.

Jethro's jaw clenched so hard that his teeth felt strained to break, knew that if Tony's dad was there right now, he'd gladly face assault charges to lay the man out on the carpet for daring to wish his own son harm, for not just letting Tony go but wanting him gone. "He's a bigger clueless jackass than I am...to let you go and not do everything in his power to get you back. I'm not going to make that mistake twice." Tony's eyes widened a bit at Gibbs declaration.

Sensing a true weakening in Tony's fortifications against him, Jethro knew he had to keep fighting, set the new ground rules. Eyes holding Tony's, praying the kid had it in him to give him a second chance, Jethro said, "So you be angry with me, Tony, hell, hate me but I'm still going to keep asking you to forgive me, to let me be a part of your life. I'm going to harass Fornell to give me updates about you, going to invite you to my dad's place for holidays and here for steaks, hoping that one day you'll say yes. And I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, I certainly don't offer much forgiveness to others...but then again… you're a better man than I am." And Jethro yearned for Tony to know how true that was, what type of man he was, in spite of his cruelty to Tony …or Tony's father's.

It was almost more than Tony could process. The smart aleck in him wanted to remark about this conversation containing more words than he thought Gibbs capable of but he knew that was just another coping mechanism of his. Wisecracking instead of letting himself feel something, even if that something was hope. Maybe especially if that something was hope. In his experience, hope always burned brightly and then torched everything inside of him when it was snuffed out.

At Tony's silence, Jethro feared that he had read more into Tony's earlier responses, had let his need, his hope shade the realities of how all this would end. And for as many times as he had signed divorce papers, let someone go that he had once loved…he couldn't bear to do it this time, knew that if it were Kelly standing there instead of Tony, he would feel the same resolution to not let his child turn away from him. And his voice was as close to breaking as it had ever been as he began, "Tony, just…

Tony chose that same moment to speak. "We both know you're wrong."

With those words, all the air was ripped from Jethro. And he relived what it was like to be in a burning building and know there was no oxygen to intake, only fire, heat and death.

But then Tony continued, his lips turning up into a self-chastising smirk, "I hold grudges and I manipulate people and annoy them. Just ask my ex-girlfriends or Ziva or McGee."

Jethro's eyes widened and he drew in a breath with burning lungs. This wasn't Tony shutting him down…it was Tony not believing his earlier statement, not having faith in his own goodness, knowing the man that he truly was. And Jethro could work with that, could show Tony that the people in his life, they saw the good in him, even when he couldn't see it for himself. Because wasn't that what his own father had done for him…what he had done for Kelly in the too short time he had had her in his life?! Eyes holding Tony's, Jethro informed, "McGee was afraid you left because of him, of what he said to you about being unable to get your own team. He practically hyperventilated at his desk when Abby said she couldn't reach you, that you left without your phone or any contact numbers, when he knew he couldn't again apologize to you, try to convince you to come back. And Ziva came to me, offered to transfer to another team if you left because of her. She said that you had more right to the team than she did. To me, that doesn't sound like two people that hate you."

Trying not to react to Gibbs' recounting of Tim and Ziva's response to his departure, Tony sallied, "You didn't mention what my ex-girlfriends think of me."

Gibbs smirked, a bit of a devious gleam in his eyes. "I have ex-wives that feel the same way about me that your ex-girlfriends do about you, so let's not do those comparisons." And Gibbs was silently thinking, ' _like father …like son.'_

Tony gave a huff of laugh. "Yeah, sounds like a good plan," and a true smile graced his features for the first time since he had returned to D.C.

And even Tony's half measured laugh had managed to brighten the room but it was the younger man's smile that transformed the room into a sanctuary again for the two men instead of a battle ground. Maybe Tony didn't even know what he was offering Gibbs, but Gibbs did. And he planned on grabbing hold of it with both hands and not letting go. Not letting him go.

"Now how about you take a seat before you pass out," Jethro offered with a warm smile, his tone not his usual gruffness but concerned and soft and teasing. Knowingly he spoke the same words Tony did in response to his suggestion.

"DiNozzos don't pass out," they said in synch and then, for a moment, they froze. Knew this was the make it or break it moment. That everything hinged on what they did next. That they had a chance, a _chance_ to get what they both wanted, if they took one final risk.

Slowly but surely, Tony gifted Gibbs with a blazing smile and, for his part, Gibbs grunted like old times but couldn't, didn't choose to hold back his smile a moment later. And somewhere along the line, through the anger and the hurt and the betrayals and the truth and the hope, they had found common ground at last.

Reaching out to take Tony's arm, intending to lead the kid back to the couch, Jethro halted with his fingers close enough to touch Tony's jacket. Silently his eyes asked Tony's permission to touch him, asked the younger man to trust him to not hurt him. Tony didn't answer verbally, instead he took a step forward until his arm brushed against Jethro's hand.

Jethro didn't hesitate, coiled his hand gently around Tony's bicep and guided the man to the couch, felt the trembling in the man's frame as he slipped his hand to Tony's back and guided him into a graceful, easy descent into the contours of the couch. Knew that Tony had pushed himself too far physically, like he always did. And where before, Jethro would have offered up harsh orders for Tony to take care of himself, the man schooled himself to bite back those tendencies. Tendencies that had always done more harm than good. Instead he crouched down in front of Tony, looked up to find the younger man contemplating his actions with uncertainty.

Jethro didn't want to disappoint Tony, to make him regret the renewed trust he was putting in him. He was determined to not hurt Tony in any way. So in a tone some would label timid, especially for Jethro Leroy Gibbs, he asked, "Can I get you something, Tony? Water to take more pain meds?"

Tony could probably count on one hand the number of times Gibbs was this gentle, this _nice_ to him: After Kate died, after Paula died, those days when Tony was sure the plague was going to win, he maybe even wanted it to so the pain would stop. And as much as he had once told McGee that Gibbs being nice wasn't Gibbs….he wanted to be wrong. To know that there was this part of the man that was buried, only peeked out once in a blue moon but that didn't make it any less real. Because that Gibbs, he just might make the cut to play a part in the new version of Tony that Tony had carved out of the old discarded one.

"Don't have my meds on me," Tony confessed, waited for the head slap, the anger. And yeah, maybe he was testing Gibbs…maybe he was testing himself to see how quickly he would fall back on old traits to accept the abuse, to cling to the vain hope of love, of respect, belief…no, _need_ to believe that Gibbs had changed, could change. Could be someone he could trust, not to have his back but to not land psychological blows that score across his soul.

Jethro wanted to rail against the kid's lack of good common sense, of his carelessness toward his own health. Tried to bite his tongue but couldn't. "DiNozzo, you can't keep doing this!"

Though there was a tinge of anger in Gibbs' tone, what had Tony's head snapping up to the older man was the other element in Gibbs' voice: anguish. In a strangled voice, he asked, "Doing what?"

"Putting yourself in pain, seeing if anyone notices…or cares." Reaching out, Jethro put his fisted hand on Tony's uninjured leg and gave it a light tap. "I notice, I care…and I'm not the only one. I never was. Abby, Ducky, McGee, Ziva…they've each come to me worried about you over the years. And I always…" here Jethro faltered, felt foolish and vulnerable.

But Tony was hooked, though he didn't know if he could bear to hear how Gibbs had reacted to his teammates worry for him. "You always what?"

Swallowing hard, Jethro revealed, "Said you'd be ok….because I needed you to be. Couldn't think otherwise. Not any times in the past…and not now."

Shock vibrated through Tony, not just that Gibbs needed him safe but that he was worried about him now…when he was fine, hadn't been hurt that badly. So with his typical showman smile, he assured, "Hey, I'm fine, knee's a little banged up but not much worse than that time I did that unplanned parachute drop from that plane."

Jethro winced at the memories that comparison dredged up: that was the first time he thought he had lost Tony. It was gut wrenching and soul crushing and shocked him to his core to realize how much he cared for his junior agent. This smart mouthed, so intuitive and off the chart brilliant investigator of a kid that he had personally picked to join NCIS solely so he could work on his team. But he didn't think he was attached to DiNozzo…until that "unplanned parachute drop". "Yeah, well you might have just been 'a little banged up' but that was a shitty day for me."

Tony's head tilted in confusion. "But you got the bad guy."

Jethro's eyes narrowed in incredulity. "I thought you were dead, DiNozzo?! I saw you pushed out of that plane and I didn't know if your chute was on right..or if it was tampered with…or if it would open for you..and you'd never jumped before."

For one of the first times, Tony felt the need to calm Gibbs down. Adopting his soothing voice that he used on victim's traumatized family members, he consoled, "Hey, I was fine. Had that little practice time under my belt and my chute did open…it was the landing that I didn't stick right. Well, that and not knowing how to steer the chute away from a tree instead of right into it."

Jethro appreciated Tony's attempt to make light of his near death experience, like he always did. Knew the kid did it for his benefit, yes, but also because part of Tony believed he shouldn't hope that anyone panicked at the thought of him being hurt or worse, killed. "Tony, let's get one thing straight between us."

All the air left Tony's lungs at that forbidding preamble. Found all he was capable of was a nod of his head to consent for Gibbs to say what was on his chest, what Tony feared would break him….or mend him.

Jethro hated that fear sparked in Tony's eyes, that the kid couldn't believe that hurting him was the last thing he wanted to do, swore he would never do again. Reaching out, he cupped the side of Tony's neck. "I'm never been ok with you getting hurt, not on the job, not off the clock, not even on some frat party trip where you got into a bar fight."

"What?! I never told you…." Tony stammered, had thought he had kept that bruised rib under Gibbs' radar.

Giving a little gentle squeeze to Tony's neck, he smirked, "I'm not a half bad observer …or investigator, DiNozzo. I knew. Had a not so pleasant conversation with your frat buddy who was kind enough to lay it all out for me."

"Meaning you called and used your Gibbs growl on him and he crumbled like a fortune cookie," Tony surmised, almost felt sorry for his buddy Terry…except he was the one who started the bar fight…and bailed on Tony when things started going south. "That's why Terry was a no show for our next reunion?"

Jethro gave a smile that was all predatory as he pulled his hand free of DiNozzo. "I might have suggested that if any harm came to you because of him ever again…he'd be sucking food through a straw for six months."

Instead of feeling like his privacy was violated, Tony couldn't help smiling. "Actually, he was a jerk and I didn't miss having him around on our last reunion."

A companionable silence fell as the two men eyed each other, realized that their new footing, it wasn't all that different than their old one, just contained a whole lot more words of things unsaid but always felt.

Though he didn't know if he had the right, Tony said what was clamoring in his heart to be uttered. "Kelly wouldn't have froze you out." At Gibbs' skeptical look that didn't show signs of the older man being enraged that Tony dared to mention his daughter and what she may or may not have been like, Tony clarified, "I've read that, in general, girls are more forgiving of their fathers, especially if their father controls the purse strings."

And let it up to Tony to have insight into father/daughter relationships. "Read where?" Jethro cross examined, not in censure but amusement.

Tony shifted a little on the couch in embarrassment. "Hey, there's not a lot of great reading material in a dentist's office. It was either read Teen Vogue or PC World."

Jethro couldn't hold back his chuckle. "So from this new knowledge you gained from Teen Vogue, how would I have gained Kelly's forgiveness for being a grade A jerk of a father?"

Tony felt his cheeks burn and wished he had for once kept his mouth shut. But Gibbs was patiently waiting for him to impart to him the female point of view on making nice. "A few shopping trips would go a long way in patching up the rough road…that is unless you objected to the super cool guy she was dating." Here Tony interjected, "That last part is from my own personal experience, me playing the role of super cool guy, of course."

Jethro sagely nodded his head as if the advice was unquestionably wise, after all Teen Vogue would never be wrong. But then he reclaimed a seat on the chair across from Tony, asked the question that was burning in his gut with a voice too hoarse to come across as detached. "And sons? How does a father earn his forgiveness?"

It was not where Tony saw the conversation going, caught him off guard, had him struggling to meet Gibbs' eyes and not flinch away. And maybe Teen Vogue had a serious answer for this topic…Tony had only his own heart to lead him…and his smart aleck nature to put it into words. "Eating crow, lots of crow...and throw in a few hundreds to make things go better."

Jethro's eyes crinkled with happiness and amusement. "Hundreds, huh? On a government salary?"

Tony smiled back, was generous enough to relent on some of his terms. "Ok, well some steaks..they do nicely in a pinch."

And as much as Gibbs wanted to take the olive branch Tony was offering, even if he knew he didn't deserve it, he couldn't without a few words he knew he should have said six months ago, hell, years and years ago, every year since he met Tony, every month, every day. "I'm sorry, Tony. It was never about your shortcomings...it was always about mine. My fears, my past, my poor way of coping. When I lost my wife and daughter, it was unbearable and I almost ...wanted to..." But he couldn't load that on Tony that he had contemplating taking his own life, that weight wasn't Tony's to carry…but it had been Tony who had lifted a lot of that crushing despair from his heart, made living worthwhile again. "You should know, Tony, that losing you, your respect...it hurt almost as much."

It seemed inconceivable that him leaving NCIS, leaving _Gibbs_ could wreck that much havoc on the strong man he knew Gibbs to be…but maybe that was part of the problem too. He didn't know Gibbs, not like he thought he did. Certainly not how much the older man valued him. Exhaling a held breath, Tony admitted, "Honestly I wanted to hurt you but I didn't think I could. Pretty childish of me, huh?" shame hueing his words.

But Jethro didn't offer up blame but a pardon. "I think Ducky would say pretty human of you."

"That Ducky, he's a smart one," Tony teasingly goaded Gibbs.

"You looking for a head slap, DiNozzo?' Gibbs mockingly growled.

Tony only smiled in response, knew his days of head slaps were a thing of the past. As were a lot of other poor forms of communication between he and Gibbs. And speaking of communication…he had some of his own to convey. Sobering, he watched as Gibbs read his change in mood and his former boss' shoulders tensed up. "Gibbs, I'm not quitting the FBI. It's a great fit for me."

Though Jethro knew in his gut that this was going to be Tony's decision, it still hurt. But things had to be about more than lessening his own pain…had to be about not causing Tony any further pain. With a sigh, he conceded, "I know." But he couldn't bear to ask if that meant Tony was going to go away and not come back, that all this changed nothing in the long run: his regret, his apology, his honesty...him loving Tony like a son.

Gibbs' easy acceptance, it would have caused Tony all kinds of doubt about how Gibbs felt about him, valued him…if not for all the candid words that had come before. Now Tony knew in his heart of hearts that Gibbs didn't want him to go, didn't want him to be with the FBI instead of NCIS…but Gibbs was not protesting Tony's decision, not because he didn't care but because he did…he cared what Tony wanted, what was good for Tony.

And yeah, the FBI, Epps, Fornell, they were good for Tony…but so were other things, so were other _people_. People he had almost forsaken because he thought he didn't matter to them. An erroneous thought, he knew that now. "But…the thing is….I couldn't pack up my apartment, not with this brace on and hobbling along with crutches."

Jethro visibly swallowed down his regrets, coached himself to not be petty, knew he needed …no, yearned to help Tony, any way the younger man would allow him to. Even if it was helping Tony leave him for good. "I could help," he offered, knew that so would the rest of his NCIS team but selfishly wanted this time alone with Tony, especially if it was going to be his last.

Tony, however, countered with another idea. "I was thinking maybe keeping my apartment here. My job takes me all over the states, not like any home base would be a better location than the next."

Jethro could hardly let himself hope. Quietly, he tried to sway Tony's vote, "I know a doctor who would make house calls just for you. And a certain goth would make sure your refrigerator was well stocked and any goldfish you get stays alive. And I always have some steaks and cold beer on hand, in case you.."

Tony interjected here with a boyish smirk, "Need advice on my life choices? Crave a father/Daughter outing? Definitely do NOT seek your approval on who I'm dating?"

There was no way Jethro could keep his joy concealed. Was smiling too widely, his eyes shone too brightly and his comeback was way too good-humored, "Considering the number of ex-wives I've racked up, that last thing might be good insight on your part."

"I'm not a bad observer and investigator myself," Tony boasted amid his smirk.

Jethro turned serious for a moment, "No you're not…are the best I've known. Fornell better be grateful every day for having you or I'll do more than give him a black eye this time."

"Why'd you give him a black eye last time?" Tony asked, knowing what his gut was telling him, had been telling him all along and he hadn't dared to hope was true.

Gibbs shrugged, truthfully acknowledged, "I was furious with him. It was easier to think he stole you away from me than you hated me."

"Never hated you," Tony contradicted before he spelled out, "was seriously pissed and…hurt. But I never could work up the hate part."

"Yeah, because you're a good man, Tony," and Tony recognized the pride glowing in Gibbs eyes. Pride in him.

"Had a pretty good mentor," Tony allowed giving as good as he got. Before he tackled on, "Yeah, Ducky…where would I be without his British culture and detailed stories to guide me in this life."

Jethro snorted. "You trying to talk your way out of a steak?"

Tony smirked again. "I would never willingly talk my way out of a steak."

"Good," Jethro announced before he headed into the kitchen returned a few moments later bearing a glass of water, a Tylenol bottle and an ice pack. Handed the items off to DiNozzo with an order of, "Take some Tylenol in place of your prescription meds. And you can ice your knee awhile and we can switch off to a heating pad after an hour."

As Gibbs disappeared back into the kitchen, Tony called out, "How do you know I'm supposed to ice my knee for an hour than put heat on it?" Suspicion in his tone.

"Your doctor told me," Jethro answered as he grabbed steaks from his freezer, smiled when Tony put two and two together and got four.

"You grilled my doctor when you went to the hospital and talked to Don and took on his dad's wrath," Tony surmised aloud. "What happened to doctor patient confidentiality?"

Jethro ducked his head back into the room, his look fixed on Tony. "Family trumps all that."

And Gibbs had made it that simple. They were family and that was it. No matter how far or how long Tony had run…even if he had never stopped running, had never came back, it wouldn't have changed what they were. Just like Gibbs had figured out with his dad. "So is that why you called your dad after so long? Because you're family?'

Jethro knew he shouldn't be surprised by Tony's perceptiveness, it was one of the things he admired about the kid. Stepping fully back into the room, he admitted, "Figured how could I expect you to forgive me when I wasn't forgiving my own father."

That explanation Tony didn't see coming, had him raising his eyebrows in shock. "So…it went ok, your talk with him?"

Jethro smiled contently. "He invited me to Easter so I'm thinking it went pretty good. Fact is, he invited you to."

At that statement, true astonishment contorted Tony's features. "Invited me? To Easter? He doesn't even know me?!"

Holding Tony's gaze, wanting this to sink in with the younger man, Jethro explained his father's motives. "He knows how I feel about you and that was good enough for him. When I told him you were pissed at me and I didn't know if you'd ever forgive me, he said no one who had ever taken a bite of his famous apple pie could continue to hold a grudge against the pie maker…or, by association, the pie maker's stubborn jackass son."

"Mmm, must be some pie," Tony smart mouthed back.

Jethro smiled back. "He swears my mother fell in love with his pie first..and him second."

"Really some pie."

And then Jethro started a fire in the fireplace and before too long the two men were sitting side by side on the couch, eating fire branded steaks in Gibbs' living room like old times.

Amid a bite of steak, Tony allowed, "Your dad might have the pie leverage…but you've got the steak one."

Looking to the younger man at his side, knowing that it wasn't just Tony's stomach he had won over, Jethro earnestly countered, "Good thing you like steak then." Silently tacked on the most important trait of Tony's, ' _And have a heart of gold to forgive foolish fathers for their sins against you.'_

Meeting Gibbs' gaze, Tony knew they weren't talking about steaks, were talking about bridging the gap between them. But their old relationship, it had not been strong enough to endure the fires of their vulnerabilities and insecurities and hurts, had nearly gone up in smoke. Had burned them both in the process. Tony didn't think he could weather another blaze…and by the looks of Gibbs' boat downstairs, neither could the other man. And it would be safer to call it quits before they hurt each other worse, irreparably maybe. Gibbs was notorious for divorces and Tony had won his emancipation from his dad at fourteen. Cutting their losses was both of their go-to solution.

As if sensing the younger man's indecision, Jethro spoke in the silence. "I can't promise I won't sometimes fall back on old habits, but …Tony, give me a chance to do things better."

"What if I disappoint you?" Tony apprehensively posed, eyes dropping to his hands instead of the man at his side. "I know how to be your agent, what you expect from me. Without the work, maybe we'll have nothing to talk about. Heck, you barely talk now."

Tilting his head down to look up into Tony's face, Jethro quietly prodded, "Is that what you need from me? To talk to you?"

"No, yes…I don't know," Tony huffed out in confusion as his head came up so he could face Gibbs. "It just…shouldn't be all one sided. You shouldn't have to be my counselor, Gibbs. Especially if my mental problems aren't going to negatively affect your cases anymore."

Jethro felt his throat tighten at Tony's self-depreciation, had to force the words out, "That why you think I invited you here after tough cases, when I knew you were hurting?

Sensing Gibbs' anger, Tony stammered, "No…not all the time."

"How about none of the time, Tony," Jethro gently corrected. "The cases would get solved or they wouldn't. My concern was with you, you Tony, not you special agent DiNozzo."

Feeling chagrined at Gibbs words, Tony sighed, leaned back against the couch in defeat, his steak forgotten. "Guess we have a lot to unlearn about each other." And it hurt, to think he was so wrong about so many things he had trusted his instincts to properly interpret.

"I still like building boats and good whiskey," Jethro announced, knew that for all the things they had not known about each other, there were a thousand things they had gotten right. That he _knew_ Tony. And he dared anyone to tell him he didn't. Even Tony himself.

Encouraged by Gibbs' comeback, Tony countered with a smile, "I still like movies and a good chardonnay."

"See, we still know the basics. The rest, we'll figure out as we go along," Jethro promised, hoped that it was enough, that Tony wouldn't decide to throw in the towel, to come to the conclusion that he actually knew him too well to trust him to be able to change.

"So your dad's pie, can I ask for ice cream too or will that insult the chef?" Tony asked, prayed the invite was still open.

Knowing Tony's question was the younger man's way of agreeing to go with him to his father's, that Tony was giving him a chance to be something other than his ex-boss, to be a true declared part of his family, Jethro smiled wholeheartedly. "I'll ask for the ice cream, make it seem like my idea. My dad wants to get insulted, he can yell at me. Not you."

"That sounds awful chancy since you just got things patched up between you two," Tony hedged, and it seemed like a joke but in truth, he didn't want his presence in any way to hinder the reconstruction of Gibbs relationship with his father.

Knowing that true concern was underneath Tony's light words, Jethro earnestly vowed, "You're worth the risk."

Tony's response was a blazing smile. "Well then count me in for Easter at the Gibbs' homestead." Because Gibbs was right, some risks were worth taking, some people were worth giving a second chance to, and some ties, having been recovered from the ashes and reforged in the fire, were miraculously stronger than they were before. But not being one to let seriousness dominate the air, Tony joked, "So do I call your dad Gibbs squared?"

"Not if you want any of his pie," Jethro playful shot back before he instructed, "You can call him Jack and so things don't get confusing, you better get used to calling me Jethro."

Tony tried not to react to the honor Gibbs had never bestowed on him before. Not in all the years he had been an agent under his leadership. Trying not to let his new footing with Gibbs, correction, _Jethro_ , go to his head, Tony said, "Thought your dad calls you Leroy."

And just as Tony wanted, Jethro throw the younger man a glare. "You start calling me that and I'm telling my dad you are allergic to ice cream and shouldn't have any, no matter how much you plead."

"Ok, ok, no need for mean threats. I'll call you Jethro." And it was the best capitulation Tony had made, well, one of the best. Because today, he apparently was on a role of good decision making.

Tony calling him Jethro, Jethro could live with that. After all, Teen Vogue probably had run an article once upon a time about some daughters going through stages of calling their father's by their first name when they thought they were too mature to say 'dad' anymore. And Jethro, he didn't need to be called dad, his ego didn't need that, as long as his kid called him on a regular basis, answered all his phone calls in a prompt manner before he could start worrying for real, promised to stay safe and for Pete sake, stopped scaring years off Jethro's life span by nearly getting himself killed. It didn't seem all that much to ask. He just hoped Tony reasonably agreed to all his terms but then again, just like the rest of the men in Gibbs' family, his adopted son tended to be as stubborn as the day was long. But Gibbs figured he had enough pigheadedness to win out in the long run, after all, when you got something good in your life, you held on tight and didn't let go. He had had to be taught that lesson twice in his life but it had finally sank in this go around.

So right now, Tony wasn't going anywhere…and neither was he. They had time to get things right between them…and along the way, there would be boat building, movie quotes, pies with ice cream, and most definitely steaks over an open flame. And when Tony was back on the job, he'd threaten Fornell until he agreed to give him monthly updates on Tony. Course Jethro wasn't above having Abby track Tony's new cell phone to learn Tony's exact location if/when he got that feeling in his gut that his adopted son was in danger. Because his fatherly instincts…they might have been buried a good long while but they weren't gone, Tony had uncovered them without either of them knowing it six years ago. And for the first time, Jethro wasn't scared by the knowledge of how important Tony DiNozzo had become to him but grateful. He was a father again and that was a gift he knew he didn't deserve. He had treasured Kelly, had been so proud of her…just like he was of Tony. And going forward, he'd be sure his son knew that without any doubts.

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The end!

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Thanks so much for everyone who sent me encouraging reviews and favorited this story and kept tabs on it by alerts. You all were part of me getting this story completed.

Have a great day! And Happy Easter!

Cheryl W.


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